


it seems you've set it running free.

by Idnis



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fairy Tale Retellings, M/M, Red Riding Hood - Freeform, Slow Burn, Werewolves, Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-04-04 09:25:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 63,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14017215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idnis/pseuds/Idnis
Summary: The sound of an animal breathing, heavy and low, sounded through the dark forest.Neil dared to lift his head.He saw a large, light brown wolf standing in front of him, its hot breath curling up from its nose like smoke.‘Are you going to eat me?’ Neil asked, his own breath also visible in the air while he slowly pushed himself up.In response, the wolf took a step closer, baring its teeth, a low rumble sounding through its body.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> HERE IT IS, finally, the first chapter of a longer fic. After seeing [requiemofkings art](http://requiemofkings.tumblr.com/post/160111764390/andreil-lil-red-riding-hood-au-where-neil), I thought, y'know, that would be pretty cool to write about! A red riding hood crossover! So I asked if they were okay with me writing a fic based on their art and they said yes!! (obviously I guess...) 
> 
> ANYWAYS. 
> 
> Enjoy!  
> (oh, and title is from Florence + The Machine "Howl")

_Crunch_ said the leaves underneath his feet.  
But he’d already left the sound behind, running, running, running until he was sure words and expectations and fear couldn’t reach him.  
  
_Crunch_ said the leaves beneath his paws.  
But the other didn’t hear them, making so much noise, his breathing loud enough that it mixed and mingled with his own.  
  
It was unclear who was the prey, and who the predator.  
  
It was unclear who was leading the way,  
or where they were going.  
  
But it was clear they were running together.  
  
☽  
  
Looking both left and right, making sure the coast was clear, Neil sprinted towards the back door and soundlessly slipped inside.  
  
As always, the fire in the main room was burning.  
  
While the whole village had trouble keeping warm during the harsh winters, the fire in Neil’s house was always burning. The uncomfortable warmth made Neil sweat and gasp for breath sometimes.  
Or maybe that was just the fear.  
The fear that always crept up on him as soon as he was back in the village, back in his house.  
  
The fear that suddenly grasped his shoulder, and spun him around roughly.  
  
‘Where have you been?’ his father asked him.  
  
Neil knew better.  
His father never _asked_ him.  
  
‘I was looking for—’  
  
His father plucked a leaf off of Neil’s grey, worn cloak and held it up to his face, turning it over and over between his fingers.  
The fear made Neil’s breath stutter, and his following words sounded too forced.  
  
‘A new cloak,’ he finished. ‘Because this one picks up all kinds of shit.’  
  
His father grabbed the cloak with one hand and roughly pulled it closer, the string around Neil’s neck burning and tightening uncomfortably as his father looked him over.  
  
‘It never seems to stick to the bottom,’ his father observed.  
  
‘I _try_ to be presentable.'  
  
His father stared at him, his eyes the colour of ice.  
Unforgiving.  
Always remembering.  
It was futile to hope that the fire burning in their house would somehow melt it.  
  
His father would never melt.  
The ice in his eyes was cold enough that it burned in its own way.  
  
‘Go to your room.’ His father pushed him back. ‘And I don’t want you out of the house. You know this.’  
  
Neil knew.  
Too dangerous outside.  
It _was_ dangerous,  
but only because Neil loved the forest so much he worried one day he’d sneak off and never return.  
  
‘You don’t have to protect me, father,’ Neil said.  
  
‘If I don’t,’ his father said, ‘Who will? If I don’t want you, who does?’  
  
Neil dropped his gaze to the floor.  
  
'No one,’ he answered.  
  
‘That’s right.'  
  
☽   
  
Neil climbed up the ladder standing in the corner of the main room, and passed the first floor without looking.  
It was where his father slept, and the room was always hidden by a large, dark tapestry.  
  
Climbing higher, he reached the second—and last—floor. His room. It was a small and dark thing, and Neil had to crouch the entire time in fear of hitting the ceiling’s heavy wooden beams.  
  
He laid down on his bed, and immediately turned onto his stomach.  
There was a tiny hole in one of the wooden beams.  
It had taken him _years_ to make, but it had been worth it, for having a small place where the air was lighter. Easier.  
  
Neil crawled closer, pressing his face against the wood so he could peek through. The harsh and cold winter wind brushed against his eyelashes, and it tickled, but not in a bad way.  
In a way that made Neil remember there was still a world out there.  
A world he would always try his best to return to.  
  
Through the small hole, Neil watched the night sky with its countless stars, then looked down at the faraway tree tops, almost hidden by the smoke of fires burning.  
  
Neil longed to be out there.  
To be out of here.  
Away from his father.  
  
But his father was head of the village and had eyes and ears _everywhere_.  
Infrequent trips into the forest were all Neil could afford.  
  
Downstairs in the main room, their front door suddenly closed with a loud _bang._  Footsteps hurried through the room.  
  
‘Nathan, come quick,’ Lola urged, her words whispered. ‘There’s been another attack.’  
  
Neil heard his father move quickly too,  
heard the front door opening and closing.  
  
He wasn’t allowed out of this suffocating house on most days.  
But Neil would find out what happened tomorrow.  
One way or another.  
  
☽  
  
The rest of the village was busy working when Neil finally managed to sneak out.  
His father had been gone for an hour or so before Neil thought it was safe enough to climb down.  
  
The winter wind ruffled Neil’s hair, but it didn’t make him stop and wrap his cloak tighter around himself.

No, he had a purpose.  
With the blacksmith’s daughter.  
  
The blacksmith lived at the edge of town, so Neil had to walk through the center of the village, bypassing countless houses made of dark wooden beams.  
To Neil, the whole village felt like a dark and closed off room, much like his father’s house.  
  
When he entered the blacksmith’s workshop, the sound of a hammer pounding on iron drowned out all of Neil’s thoughts.

For a moment.  
  
‘Renee,’ Neil said, when the apprentice turned over the piece of iron and it was momentarily quiet. ‘Is Allison home?’  
  
Renee put down her hammer and wiped the sweat off her brow. ‘Yes, she is. She decided to have a late breakfast.’  
  
Neil swept past her without another word.  
He didn’t really like her.  
  
Allison was sitting at a large, wooden table, eating fresh berries of all things, while one of her servants was brushing her hair.  
  
She smiled when she saw him. ‘Good morning, Neil. Take some sweets.’  
  
‘There was an attack last night,’ Neil said by way of greeting.  
  
Allison sighed,  
and pushed a bowl of hardened sugar mixed with honey towards him.  
  
‘I wish you’d visit me for _me_ for once.’  
  
Neil ignored her wish.  
He’d tried wishing, but it had been ignored.  
Or maybe it had never even been heard.  
  
‘Do you know what happened?’  
  
‘Yes, unfortunately. One of the frivolous girls went to the forest around dawn,’ Allison drawled, bored. ‘With some guy or another that isn’t even worth noticing. Works at a farm or something.’  
  
‘So stupid,’ Neil said.  
  
‘Yes, but where else are you going to have sex?’  
  
‘I don’t have sex,’ Neil answered.  
  
Allison eyed him for a few seconds.  
‘Clearly,’ she said. ‘Maybe you’d smile more if you had. You know, if you want someone to take your well protected flower, we could—’  
  
‘What happened, Allison?’  
  
‘Well,’ Allison said. ‘The usual. The wolf took the girl. Bit off everything, then left a messy, ugly body.’  
  
It _was_ the usual.  
But.  
  
‘I don’t get it,’ Neil said, more to himself than to Allison. ‘Why _leave_ the body?’  
  
‘Get started on my hair,’ Allison ordered her servant, then waved Neil off too. ‘I don’t care,’ she said. ‘Maybe it didn’t like her legs?’  
  
‘I don’t think it eats the bodies. It doesn’t make sense not to eat everything.’  
  
‘It’s a wolf. A monster. It’s not sensible.’  
  
Neil nodded.  
What she said made sense.  
And it didn’t.  
  
Grabbing a few sweets from the bowl, Neil turned without another word, bypassing Renee on his way out.  
  
‘It’s sad, isn’t it?’ Renee spoke up.  
  
At first, she had ignored Neil much like he had her. Until a few months ago, when she had actively started making conversation with him, to his annoyance.  
  
‘I didn't know her,’ Neil answered shortly.   
  
‘I didn’t either, but I prayed for her. I would want someone to guide me into the next life. There is a kind of magic in praying, don’t you think?’  
  
Instead of answering, Neil’s eye fell to her necklace  
with its crude, wooden cross.  
  
He found it hard to talk to Renee when he didn’t agree with her in the slightest.  
  
So he changed the subject, and nodded to the iron in her hands.  
  
‘Working on another knife?’  
  
‘Yes,’ she said, sounding sad.  
  
A knife made entirely out of iron was for one thing only.

Monsters.  
And killing them.

Neil nodded at her, then walked out.  
  
☽

And into the forest.  
  
It was easier during the day.  
Easier to slip away, to evade and avoid,  
and in the forest, surrounded by the dark trees, it was easy to forget for a moment.  
  
Neil had barely crossed the edge of the forest  
before he was running.  
  
His cloak swept behind him, sometimes hitting against the back of his legs. It wasn’t a problem, until it was.  
  
Because apart from the sound of his own harsh breathing, Neil could suddenly hear the soft _thuds_ of something running behind him.   
Next to him.   
In front of him.  
  
Running in the forest always made Neil feel free,   
free of his father, free of the fear that clung to his house.  
But Neil felt the fear now, as he remembered Alison’s words.  
_  
Bit off everything, then left a messy, ugly body._  
  
Was it the monster?  
  
Neil ran faster, legs pumping beneath him, his feet barely touching the forest ground.  
He ran faster,  
trying to outrun his fear.  
  
But a branch, one he thought he’d evaded, got stuck on his cloak and _yanked_ Neil backwards.  
  
The string around his neck burned sharply and nearly choked him,  
but as Neil fell back on the ground, it released him again and air flooded his lungs almost painfully.  
  
He gasped for breath.  
  
A breath was all he got before the thudding of feet, no, paws, came closer and closer and then  
stopped.  
  
The sound of an animal breathing, heavy and low, sounded through the dark forest.  
  
Neil wondered if it would be over soon.  
Wondered if it would hurt more than his father teaching him manners.  
Wondered, out loud,  
‘Will it hurt more than fire?’  
  
Of course, the monster said nothing back.  
But it also hadn’t moved, so Neil dared to lift his head.  
  
He saw a large, light brown wolf standing in front of him, its hot breath curling up from its nose like smoke. Its fur was a little patchy, some parts lighter, some darker, but what struck Neil the most were its eyes.  
  
They were hazel  
and eerily intelligent as they stared him down.  
  
‘Are you going to eat me?’ Neil asked, his own breath visible in the air as he slowly pushed himself up.  
  
In response, the wolf took a step closer, baring its teeth, a low rumble sounding through its body.  
  
Neil shivered.  
  
But he moved to his feet nonetheless.  
  
Nothing happened.  
The forest was still and quiet around them, the only sounds  
Neil’s quickened breaths  
and the wolf’s heavy ones.  
  
Neil took a step back, keeping his voice calm. ‘Are you the monster?’   
  
The wolf growled, following up each of Neil’s steps back with one of its own.  
Its hazel eyes were focused intensely on Neil.  
  
But nothing had happened yet, so Neil continued walking, slowly, holding up his hands to show he didn’t have a weapon.  
  
Again, a growl.  
  
Neil froze.  
  
It was strange.  
Neil tilted his head to the side, observing the raised fur, bared teeth, and intelligent eyes.  
  
It was strange.  
Neil knew he should feel afraid, but he was just... fascinated, as he’d always been fascinated by the monster’s behaviour.  
  
It was strange, yes.  
But his father had always accused him of being strange, had often tried to burn it out of him.

Neil’s left hand twitched.  
  
The wolf caught it.  
A low, rumbling growl echoed through the winter forest.  
A warning.  
  
Neil knew he had to either make a run for it or distract it.  
But running would always feel more natural, so he tensed his legs a second before he turned and sprinted towards the edge of the forest.  
  
The wolf was just as quick. Neil stopped short when it was suddenly standing in front of him, its head lowered. It was growling loudly now.  
  
A threat.  
  
Neil quickly took a few unsteady steps back, heart pounding in his chest. The wolf didn't seem to be backing down or waiting it out this time. It was stalking towards him with its ears flat against his head.  
Like a predator who’d spotted his prey.  
  
Distract then.  
  
Neil dove his hand inside his pocket and threw a few of the sugar and honey sweets at its face,  
before immediately making a run for it.  
  
He hoped it was enough of a distraction,  
hoped it bought him enough time to flee.  
  
Neil's breathing sounded exceptionally loud in his own ears, but then the ground beneath his feet changed from forest to small stones, and he was running back into the village.  
  
His heart was beating wildly in his chest, and he took gasping breaths of air.  
  
Neil lifted his hands.  
The marred and twisted skin stared him in the face.  
But they weren’t shaking.  
  
His hands weren’t shaking.  
  
☽

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hihi, I totally and shamelessly put a Six of Crows reference in there. Did you catch it? 
> 
> I know it's only the beginning, but I hope it was interesting!  
> If you want, please let me know what you think :) That would mean a lot!
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!!
> 
> Reading comments today made me SUPER excited about this story.  
> I actually wanted to have a slightly slower upload schedule but what the heckie 
> 
> Here is the next chapter!
> 
> Enjoy <3

  
His father’s hands also weren’t shaking when they lifted Neil’s grey cloak,   
when they pulled on the tatters at the bottom.  
  
‘What’s this?’ he asked quietly.  
  
‘My ruined cloak,’ Neil answered, looking at his father’s shoulder. Not his eyes.   
  
It meant he saw the bunching of his father’s muscles,  
but still couldn’t avoid the backhanded slap across his face.  
  
‘Don’t act smart. Nothing in the village could cause your cloak to be this ruined.’  
  
Cheek burning, Neil stared hard at the ground. He knew he couldn’t tell his father he’d been in the forest again.   
He forced himself to sound bored  
and not guilty.  
  
‘I visited the blacksmith. You know it’s at the edge of the village. My cloak got stuck on one of the broken pieces of iron in the workshop. Their apprentice was working on another knife.’  
  
His father was quiet for a minute, probably searching for the lie.  
And it was there.   
Hidden between the truths.  
  
The fire in the hearth crackled,   
burning hotly and making the air   
stuffy   
and difficult.  
Neil took calming breaths that burned his lungs, but he managed to force his panic down.  
  
‘You need a new cloak,’ his father said, dropping his cloak and dismissing him with a wave of his hand.  
  
Neil nodded. ‘I’ll see to it.’  
  
‘No,’ his father said. ‘ _I_ will get you a new one.’  
  
☽  
  
That evening, as Neil laid in bed,  
he tried to breathe.  
  
He tried not to let himself panic, to keep the dark, wooden walls at bay, but his hands were  
shaking.  
  
☽  
  
During the day, his father kept a close eye on him.  
  
Even though Neil desperately needed to get away, he decided to wait for the perfect moment to slip away.  
Obviously,   
that was stupid.  
Perfect didn't exist in Neil's world.  
  
But one evening, his father told Neil he’d be going to the council,  
and though an evening was anything but ideal, Neil felt like he was slowly suffocating inside the house,   
so when he heard his father’s footsteps get farther away, Neil grabbed his ruined cloak and quickly climbed down the ladder.  
  
☽  
  
The entire village was bathed in orange sunlight.  
It reminded Neil of fire.  
  
Slipping behind houses, moving mostly in the dark shadows, he made his way to the end of the village and the beginning of the forest.  
  
Neil took a few steps into the woods, and breathed in deeply.  
But those breaths was never enough.  
He found his steps quickening until he was running through the trees, his breath coming in short bursts,  
burning his lungs in a cold, cold way.  
  
Neil needed the painful reminder that he was outside.  
That he was free from the fear and his father,   
if only for a little while.  
  
And he was running,  
and he was free,  
and he was... not alone.  
  
A second set of footsteps matched his strides,   
breaking sticks and crunching frozen leaves underneath their shoes.  
  
Neil felt his heart beat quickly in his chest.  
  
If it was one of his father’s men, or worse, Lola, he wouldn’t be able to lie his way through.  
He’d burn for his disobedience.

But he could try to outrun them.

Focusing on a large tree a few feet ahead, Neil sprinted towards it and at the right moment, grabbed it with his left arm. He used his momentum to change his direction and sprint back towards the village.

The second set of footsteps flew past him  
and Neil thought he saw a dark shadow running, but it went by too fast to be sure.  
  
After a few seconds, he could only hear his own feet,   
his own gasping breaths.  
  
Whoever had followed him out here wasn’t following him now.  
  
It allowed Neil to think about a crucial piece of information.  
  
Whoever had followed him out here,  
had run nearly as fast as he had.  
  
And Neil knew no one  
who could.  
  
☽  
  
‘Good morning, Neil,’ Allison greeted him when he entered the blacksmith’s main room.  
She was sitting at the table again, but this time no servants were brushing her hair or bringing her more food and Neil wondered for a second what she’d been doing before he’d walked in.  
Before Renee had loudly greeted him.  
  
‘I need information,’ Neil said by way of greeting, sitting down at the opposite end of the long table. Allison sighed, but Neil ignored that. ‘Do you know if there are people who go deep into the woods?’  
  
Allison watched him for a few minutes, her nails tapping against the wooden table.  
 _Tap, tap, tap._  
  
Then she smiled. ‘Why, Neil… That’s against the rules.’  
  
Allison knew full well he did.  
But fine, Neil would ask differently.  
  
‘Who’s the fastest runner in the village?’  
  
Allison’s eyebrows rose. ‘Do you think I care who’s fast?’  
  
‘Let’s put it this way, I want you to care.’  
  
Allison tapped a finger against the corner of her red mouth. ‘I will care…’ she said slowly. ‘For a favour.’  
  
Favours never sat well with Neil, but the fact that someone could keep up with his running felt worse, so he nodded in agreement.  
  
‘What do you want?’  
  
Allison smiled. ‘I’ll let you know. See you in a week.’  
  
☽  
  
Neil shifted uncomfortably behind his father,  
who was standing on top of a dark, wooden stage, looking down at the townsfolk, who were chatting among themselves.  
  
These weekly meetings were one of the only moments his father actually allowed him to go outside.  
Even when he was standing behind his father,  
every breath he took still felt _watched_.  
  
His father cleared his throat  
and it had the desired effect of everyone immediately quieting down.  
  
‘As you all know,’ his father started, not believing in greetings. ‘A few days ago, the _monster_  took another one of us. Another life, lost. Lost to the monster in the woods.’  
  
A quiet sob from somewhere in the crowd.  
Family, maybe.  
Friends.  
Trivial things Neil had never had.  
  
‘I’ve told you all this before, but I will say it again. Do _not_ go out into the woods at night if you value your life.’   
  
As his father continued his speech, Neil wondered if all the people before him could see it.  
Could see the lies and the wanting on Neil’s face, could see that he would back go into the woods  
even if it would kill him.  
  
But no doubt the people only saw a great leader,  
protecting his people against a monster.  
  
☽  
  
Inside the house—he desperately tried to catch his breath, tried to adjust to the heat again—his father blocked the way to the ladder.   
  
'Wait.'  
  
Neil dropped his gaze to his father’s chest, but his father walked away. Neil didn’t dare move from his spot,  
his burned hand itching.  
  
_Red  
_ was Neil’s first thought when his father returned.  
  
The piece of fabric in his father’s hand was a startlingly loud red, almost like it was screaming  
LOOK AT ME.  
  
His father pushed the fabric into his hands. ‘A new cloak.'  
  
‘The colour…’ Neil trailed off, unsure what to say.  
  
‘You’ll be safe, wearing this.’  
  
The fabric was heavy, felt warm but also soft, soft in a way breathing wasn’t.  
  
Neil settled for, ‘It looks expensive.’  
  
‘I will gladly pay any price to keep you safe,’ his father replied. Neil didn’t believe that. ‘Wear this wherever you go, and I will always be able to keep an eye on you.’  
  
Always.  
  
Neil fought very hard to keep the fear and panic from showing on his face  
and instead looked down at his new, bright cloak.  
  
The one that screamed  
LOOK AT ME.  
  
He’d never be able to sneak into the woods now.  
  
☽  
  
Neil still tried.

Leaving his cloak at home, Neil ran quickly, almost silently, to the edge of the village, trading frozen mud for the softer forest ground.  
But it was still frozen.  
It was still _freezing_ outside.  
  
The air cut into Neil’s throat with every burning breath, and though he pushed himself to run as fast as he could, to keep his body warm, his movements were stiff and awkward. When the sound of footsteps sounded behind him,  
Neil wasn’t able to swiftly change his course.  
  
His feet slipped on the frozen leaves  
and his head hit the ground with a painful _thud_.  
  
Neil thought this might be it,   
the moment it would be over.  
  
Weirdly, a smile made its way onto his face.  
  
Because at least he’d die free.  
At least he’d die breathing.  
  
The footsteps stopped a few feet away from Neil.  
  
Then.  
  
‘What the fuck are you doing?’  
  
Neil’s eyes flew open.  
He was unaware he’d closed them, but very aware of the fact he had _no idea_ who the gruff voice belonged to.  
  
He quickly sat up—clutching his head when the world tilted for a moment—and turned to the sound of the voice.  
There was nothing to see in the dark, the moon only a silver sliver in the sky.  
  
He barely even saw his breath clouding in front of him when he answered, ‘I’m living.’

 _Crunch_ said the leaves  
as the person shifted, changing their stance.  
  
There was no response for what felt like _hours_.  
  
All the while Neil took gasping breaths, taking in the freezing air like it would be his last.  
  
He started shivering.  
Badly.  
His teeth were chattering as his hands and feet went numb from the icy cold.  
  
‘No,’ the voice said finally. ‘You’re freezing.’  
  
Neil's whole body was shaking now. ‘I-I don’tt m-mind th-the cold,’ he managed.  
  
This time the response came a lot quicker.  
Only a few minutes.  
  
‘Go back.’  
  
Even though he knew he should, Neil’s heart sank at the words,  
and against his better judgement, he pressed his numb hand to the frozen ground, relishing the cold, burning sensation that pricked his skin.  
  
A reminder that he was free from the fire.  
Free from the fear.  
  
‘For someone who wants to live, you’re trying very hard to die. Haven’t you heard about the monster in the woods?’  
  
Neil moved stiffly to his feet. ‘I’m not afraid of the monster,’ he said through gritted teeth. The only way he could talk without stuttering.  
  
There was no reply.  
  
He was tempted for a short breath to move forward and see who it was,  
who was brave enough to go so deep into the woods at night,  
but in the end he _did_ want to live,  
so Neil forced his frozen body to start running.  
  
☽

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; ‘Sometimes…’ she whispered, her uncomfortably hot breath brushing against Neil’s ear. ‘I wish I could eat you up.’
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING <3 
> 
> I hope it's still cool!!  
> Let me know what you thought, if you want ❀


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> Today was a good day. I bought a brownie and it was the perfect amount of crispy and soft.  
> It's the little things hihi.  
> ANYWAYS, here's finally a longer chapter! 
> 
> Enjoy!

The following morning when Neil woke up, he was glad for the warmth of the house for once, because it had melted his frozen body and allowed him to sleep soundly.  
  
It was weird, feeling comfortable in his house, but when Neil made his way down,  
he froze all over again when he saw who was standing in front of the fire.   
  
Though her back was to him, her voice was joyful. ‘Goodmorning Neil. Slept well?’  
  
Too well, if he hadn’t heard her get in.  
  
‘What are you doing here?’  
  
Lola turned around, the flames creating flickering shadows on her face.  
She looked dangerous.  
  
‘Just wanted to talk. But if you have different things in mind…’  
  
She eyed Neil up and down.  
Neil recoiled at her gaze and quickly walked towards the kitchen in the corner of the room to make some breakfast.  
  
But Lola  
followed him.  
  
Neil gritted his teeth when he felt her standing behind him. She wasn’t touching him, but the heat radiating off her body was almost palpable.  
  
‘I had breakfast in mind,’ he said pointedly.  
  
Lola hummed. ‘Sometimes…’ she whispered, and suddenly her uncomfortably hot breath brushed against Neil’s ear. ‘I wish I could eat you up.’  
  
Neil swallowed away the bile rising in his throat and forced himself to turn around and take a step back.  
  
It felt incredibly hot in the room now.  
Sweat was rolling off his back, but Neil met her intimate stare head-on.  
  
‘Be careful, Lola. Saying those things makes you sound like a monster.’  
  
Lola looked at him, eyes half-lidded. Her lips curved into something that was supposed to be a seductive smile, but it only made Neil lose his appetite.  
  
‘But you love a little danger, don’t you, Neil?’  
  
A drop of sweat trailed down Neil’s temple, past his cheekbone and over his jaw.  
It was so uncomfortably hot in the house that every breath was becoming a struggle. 

But Neil forgot all of that for a moment.  
  
Because her words made him remember the second pair of footsteps, keeping up with him, matching his strides.  
Made him remember the rough, low voice,  
emotionless but still warmer than the weather outside as it said,  
_Haven’t you heard about the monster in the woods?_

Lola’s dark eyes were knowing as they stared into Neil’s icy blue ones.  
  
Their eye contact was broken when the front door opened, bringing in a gush of freezingly cold air,  
of relief,  
and Neil quickly took a deep breath.  
  
His father walked inside, halting when he saw Lola. ‘Lola. What brings you here?’  
  
‘Just getting to know Neil,’ she smiled, eyes travelling down Neil’s body one more time before she turned and walked towards the door.  
  
‘Not yet,’ his father answered. ‘He has a chance.’  
  
Lola laughed, hand on the door but not opening it yet.  
Neil longed for the moment she would.  
Longed for the cold.

‘That’s more than the other one got. Getting soft, Nathan?’  
  
A cold grin spread on his father's face. ‘What’s life without a gamble?’  
  
Neil had no idea what they were talking about.  
It frightened him,  
the fear a smoky thing, getting inside his mouth and lungs,  
choking him.  
  
His father’s grin was always bad news.  
  
Then Lola opened the door  
and let in the cold, allowing Neil to break his panicking thoughts and simply  
_breathe_.

The one breath wasn’t enough,  
but it was all he had.  
  
☽  
  
When Neil slipped out of the house,  
four days later,  
four days too late,  
he checked the state of his cloak underneath the moon and the stars and found it was too bright.  
  
The red was piercing, insistent and so very visible.  
Even in the dark, Neil could see the vivid colour.  
  
He wondered how he was supposed to sneak into the woods with this cape on,  
then decided he probably couldn’t and folded it up, stuffing it underneath his long-sleeved shirt.  
  
Once he was surrounded by trees, he took it out again and wrapped it around himself.  
It _was_ warm.  
At least it was that.  
  
Neil closed his eyes, hands trailing over the warm, smooth fabric of his cloak,  
and breathed.

The air was almost painfully cold.  
  
Then he was running, leaving behind all his fears as he merely existed, merely breathed.  
  
Though Neil wasn’t listening for them,  
he wasn’t surprised when he heard a second set of footsteps following him,  
matching his fast pace easily.  
  
They ran together for an hour  
before Neil had to catch his breath.  
  
The cold, burning sensation in his chest felt good.  
  
‘Are you fucking stupid?’ asked the voice from somewhere to Neil’s left.  
  
‘What?’ Neil asked, panting, not even bothering to try and find the person in the dark.  
  
‘Your cloak.’  
  
‘It’s not really mine.’  
  
‘Couldn’t steal a less obnoxious cloak?’  
  
Neil snorted. ‘It’s a present from my father.’  
  
The other was quiet for a second.  
Neil’s breathing finally started slowing down.  
  
‘Must be nice having a father who wants you dead.'  
  
Neil blinked in surprise. ‘He’s not sending me into the woods.’  
  
Another silence.  
This one was so long that Neil added, ‘I go here to—’  
  
‘Live,’ the other interrupted, echoing Neil’s words from a week ago.  
  
‘Exactly,’ Neil breathed.  
  
An owl hooted from somewhere in the woods.  
  
Neil closed his eyes, content to breathe in the cold air and listen to the sounds of the forest.  
  
If he listened carefully, he could hear the clapping of wings, the scuttle of small animals on the forest ground, the swaying of trees in the wind,  
and  
the quiet breaths of whoever was out here with him.  
  
‘You’d think all the animals would be gone,’ Neil said, ‘with the monster in the woods.’  
  
‘You’d think you wouldn’t come back,’ the voice answered after a few seconds of silence, ‘with the monster in the woods.’  
  
‘I’m not afraid of the monster,’ Neil repeated. ‘Are you?’  
  
‘I’m not afraid of anything.’  
  
Neil opened his eyes and tilted his head back, staring at the moon, the dark blue sky. His breath clouded in front of him.  
  
‘I am,’ he whispered.  
  
He’d never said this out loud.  
Never told anyone about the fear, nor the fire, choking him every day inside that house.  
  
The other didn’t answer, but Neil could hear them changing their stance, twigs breaking underneath their feet.  
  
Neil wanted to ask them all kinds of questions.  
  
He settled for, ‘What are you doing here?’  
  
_Crunch_ said the leaves to Neil’s left as the other walked closer—or was it away?  
  
There was a sigh.  
It didn’t sound rough or emotionless.  
  
‘Living,’ was the answer, before they ran deeper into the woods.  
  
☽  
  
Every day felt like surviving, struggling to catch his breath.  
  
But outside, the wind sweeping up his bright red cloak, Neil found himself merely wandering through the village, eyes unseeing.  
  
No, they weren’t unseeing.  
They just weren’t seeing the right now, instead staring into the relative darkness of the forest, listening for breathing.  
Listening for answers.  
_  
Living.  
  
_ Neil normally visited the forest once a week,  
twice at most, and only if he could get away with it.  
  
But now he found himself wanting to return as soon as possible.  
Found himself wanting more answers.  
  
And even though his cloak was so bright red,  
he still managed to bump into someone.  
Someone who apparently also wasn’t looking at the now.  
  
‘Sorry,’ the guy with dark curls said, avoiding Neil’s eyes, which made Neil look more closely at him.  
  
He knew almost everyone in the village, but this guy seemed to slip between Neil’s memories.  
  
‘Who are you?’ Neil asked.  
  
‘Oh, um. Nicky, sir.’  
  
That was new.  
  
‘Sir?’  
  
The guy looked at Neil for the first time since bumping into him. ‘No? Aren’t you Nathan’s son? Like, the guy who could murder me and my family if I so much as breathed wrong?'   
  
The words triggered,  
brought back broken breaths  
angry red flames,  
_burning._  
  
Neil’s left hand twitched,  
and he forced himself to take a calm breath, pushing the fear away.  
  
‘I am,’ Neil said. ‘But my father wouldn’t—’ He stopped himself.  
  
Lying came naturally to Neil, but it was useless to lie to this guy.  
  
‘Yeah…’ The guy laughed awkwardly. ‘He definitely wouldn’t murder my cousin. No way.’  
  
There was an edge in his voice that made Neil wonder what his father had done.  
  
‘Cousin?’ Neil asked, but the guy suddenly looked startled, _frightened_ , over Neil’s shoulder and turned around with a short, ‘Goodbye.’  
  
Another gust of wind swept up the ends of Neil’s cloak, the fabric slapping against his legs as he watched the vaguely familiar guy walk away.  
  
His words repeated through Neil’s mind.  
  
_who could murder me if I breathed wrong_  
  
Neil knew how that felt.  
  
Just like he knew how it felt to be watched.  
He turned around and met Lola’s dark gaze head-on.  
  
She smiled slowly at him, then licked her lips.  
  
_I wish I could eat you up._ _  
__  
_ Even though Neil wasn’t inside his house, wasn’t being crowded against the wall by her, he still felt trapped,  
and the dark, wooden houses around him felt like they were getting closer.  
  
His breath was coming in short bursts.  
  
Tearing his gaze away, Neil walked towards the edge of the village, not caring that everyone could see where he was walking towards.  
  
He stopped when he reached the beginning of the forest.  
There was no one here.  
Everyone was too afraid to even get close to the edge.  
  
Wide-eyed and panting, Neil watched the harsh, winter sunlight stream through the trees  
and reached out his hand.  
  
He wanted so badly.  
Freedom.  
  
His feet shuffled closer, until he could hear leaves _crunching_ underneath his leather boots.  
  
Slowly,  
very slowly,  
his breathing evened out  
and the panic receded.  
  
A shuffle,  
a rustle of bushes and branches somewhere to Neil’s left.

Neil froze, standing very still as he listened intently.  
  
He heard a low, threatening growl.  
He knew what it meant.  
  
Neil looked down at his hands, but.  
Not shaking.

So he took a step into the forest.  
  
Though he didn’t see the wolf,  
the growl intensified,  
rumbling and rough.  
  
Another step would be suicide, probably.  
  
Neil sighed.  
  
‘I wish I could run with you,’ he said, his longing so obvious in every word.  
  
To his surprise,  
the growling stopped.  
  
_Crunch_ said the leaves to Neil’s left  
and Neil snapped his head to see what had caused it.  
He met hazel eyes for a second  
before the wolf was running away.  
  
Hands unshaking,  
Neil felt his heart clench painfully.  
  
He wanted to follow the monster into the woods.  
  
☽  
  
That evening as Neil climbed into his bed,  
the sun setting outside and bathing the entire village in flaming red,  
Neil’s hand froze around his blanket when he heard a  
howl.  
  
It was a short, piercing sound  
and sounded wanting.  
  
Neil’s breath hitched.  
It had nothing to do with the suffocating heat of the house  
and everything with cold air and hazel eyes.  
  
☽  
  
Allison was actually in the workshop when Neil entered the blacksmith’s house.  
  
‘Neil,’ she said, nodding at him and putting down the big leather gloves she was holding. Her eyes immediately fell to his cloak. ‘Red isn’t your colour,’ she said. ‘It clashes with your hair.’  
  
‘It clashes with everything.'  
  
‘Red symbolizes courage,’ Renee spoke up softly, moving around the workshop. It looked like she was returning to her work.  
  
‘Red also symbolizes libido,’ Allison grinned. ‘Is that why it’s _so_ red? Compensatin—’  
  
‘Can we talk?’ Neil interrupted her.  
  
Still grinning, Allison merely lifted an eyebrow.  
  
‘Not… here,’ Neil added, eyes quickly flashing to the large fires in the workshop. Soon, Renee would need the flames to be higher and brighter. Soon, she would give the flames more air.  
Air that Neil needed.  
  
Allison shrugged in response and walked to the house’s main room, Neil following close behind.  
  
‘So who’s the fastest?’ he asked as soon as they were in the noticeably cooler room.  
  
Hopping onto the table where they talked last time, Allison flicked her hair over her shoulder and eyed Neil for a few moments.  
  
Neil didn’t fidget.  
His father’s stares were worse.  
  
‘You are,’ Allison said finally.  
  
‘What?’  
  
‘You are the fastest in the village.’  
  
His irritation was hot and quick.  
  
‘I know,’ Neil snapped. ‘I meant besides me.’  
  
‘Don’t take me for stupid,’ Allison said sharply. ‘The answer was clear. No one in the village comes close to your speed.’  
  
Neil would’ve believed her,  
if he hadn’t heard with his own ears the footsteps matching his,  
hadn’t seen with his own eyes the shadow running beside him.  
  
‘But there is,’ he argued. ‘I saw them.’  
  
‘Are you sure you’re not just lonely?’ Allison played with a strand of her blonde hair. ‘You want someone who matches you. Someone who can keep up with you, has the same weird fascination with the forest you have.’  
  
She looked at him. Her deep blue eyes pierced into his soul, so Neil averted his gaze.  
He didn’t want her to see what he wanted.  
  
Besides, she was wrong.  
It wasn’t the forest Neil was fascinated with.  
It was the feeling of being free.  
  
‘You know, I can help you with that,’ Allison said. ‘If you’re feeling lonely, I can—’  
  
‘No,’ Neil snapped. ‘I don’t want you.’  
  
Allison didn’t even recoil.  
  
‘I was going to offer you one of the carpenter’s boys. They probably share your love for trees. But if you’re not interested…’  
  
‘I’m not. So you can’t give me the information I want?’  
  
‘I did. You’re the fastest runner in the village. Do with the information what you will.’  
  
Allison leaned back so she could reach the glass bowl in the middle of the table, and grabbed a few sweets. Then she moved to stand in front of Neil.  
Quicker than he’d expected her to be, Allison grabbed his wrist and dumped all the candy in his palm, until she was holding only one piece.  
  
‘If you withhold my favour, Neil,’ she said, holding the piece of candy between her fingers. ‘I won’t be happy.’  
  
She crushed the piece in her hand.  
  
No dust fell on the floor.  
No, when Allison opened her hand again, the piece of candy and its remains were gone.  
Vanished.  
  
She smiled sweetly at him.  
  
‘Goodbye.’  
  
☽  
  
After Neil stepped out of the blacksmith’s shop, he briefly looked to the forest on his right.  
  
The trees stood perfectly still.  
Nothing was running over the frozen forest ground.  
No leaves were crunching.  
  
He wondered if Allison was right,  
if he was subconsciously looking for someone.

Someone who wasn’t afraid of the monster.  
  
☽  
  
The curiosity,  
the question without an answer,  
made Neil stuff his cloak underneath his shirt and sneak out in the middle of the night.  
  
He didn’t have to run for long before he was accompanied by the other’s footsteps.  
  
And while every freezing inhale was relief,  
every warm exhale was curiosity.  
  
Neil stopped running.  
  
‘Where do you live?’ he asked.  
  
Silence.  
Then a low voice.   
  
‘What’s in your pocket?’  
  
Neil was surprised by the question, but still dug his hand inside his pockets, coming up with a handful of sweets.  
  
‘They’re—’  
  
‘Sweets,’ the voice answered.  
  
Neil peered at his hand, but he could just barely make out the shape.  
The only thing visible underneath the moon were the treetops and the bright red of Neil’s cloak.  
How on earth.  
  
‘Do you want one?’ Neil asked the darkness.  
  
‘Yes,’ the darkness replied.  
  
‘Tell me where you live.’  
  
Silence, and a freezing gust of wind.  
Neil couldn’t really feel his fingers anymore, but that was fine.  
  
‘I’ll tell you where I don’t live,’ the voice said.  
  
Though Neil could probably guess the answer by now,  
he still said,  
‘Okay.’  
  
_Crunch_ said the leaves to Neil’s left,  
as footsteps slowly came closer.  
  
Neil didn’t dare move, holding his hand out in front of him and staring unseeingly into the darkness.  
  
_Snap_ said a twig close to Neil,  
who looked out of the corner of his eye. He swore he could see a shadow moving closer.  
  
_Badum_ said Neil’s heart  
as warm fingers brushed against his open palm,  
taking a piece of candy.  
  
They were standing so close he could hear the stranger breathe.  
  
Then the answer.  
  
‘I don’t live in the village.’  
  
‘I know,’ Neil breathed.  
  
‘Then you just wasted a deal.’  
  
It was strange how that felt absolutely untrue.  
  
‘I didn’t,’ Neil said quietly.  
  
Silence.  
For a few moments,  
it was just them breathing.  
  
Neil could sense the other was still standing close.  
He was tempted to close his eyes, and he didn’t know why.  
  
While everything around them seemed to be holding its breath,  
while everything was quiet,  
Neil’s heart was beating loudly inside his chest.  
Again, he didn’t know why.  
  
‘Why’d you come back?’ the other asked, voice low. ‘I warned you about the monster.’  
  
_Crunch_ said the leaves underneath Neil’s boots, when he took a step forward.  
  
The other breathed in sharply,  
but the sound was quickly smothered.  
  
Neil had no idea how close they were now.  
  
‘I see no monster here,’ he whispered.  
  
A moment or two passed,  
and then Neil felt it.  
  
Felt warm breath brush against his face,  
his lips.  
  
‘You don’t see anything,’ the voice said.  
  
☽  
  
Before he slipped back inside his house,  
Neil opened his palm and looked down at his hand.  
  
He had three pieces of candy left.  
Three answers.  
  
☽

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; ‘What scares you more than monsters?’
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING <3 <3 
> 
> Let me know what you thought, if you want to :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!!
> 
> This morning, I said NO to the hour setback and just slept until 9 am.  
> My life is the wildest.  
> I hope you all slept well, or are going to sleep well<3
> 
> For now, enjoy this chapter!

‘Why the candy? Don’t you have candy where you come from?’  
  
‘Is that your question?’  
  
‘...No.’  
  
‘Then I’m not answering.’  
  
Neil frowned, though the other probably couldn’t see. Neil had no idea where they were even standing.  
  
‘It’s kind of human decency to answer questions.'  
  
A bush somewhere in front of Neil rustled,  
and then its branches snapped as someone bent them past their breaking point.  
  
‘What’s your name?’ the voice asked.  
  
‘Neil.’  
  
‘Where do you live?’  
  
‘The village.’  
  
‘What scares you more than monsters?’  
  
Words died in Neil’s throat  
and the memories came pushing,  
forcing their way into his mind, eating away his calm like flames devouring wood.  
  
Neil’s left hand twitched.  
  
But the other wasn’t finished. ‘Why does your father abuse you?’  
  
Immediately, Neil’s right hand clenched into a fist. The scars on his back started itching,  
which they normally only did when the fire inside the house became unbearable.  
  
‘Why don’t people answer questions, Neil?’ the voice asked scathingly.  
  
Neil swallowed away his anger and said, ‘Fine. I won’t ask.’  
  
Instead of a reply, leaves shuffled and rustled on the ground.  
It sounded like the other started walking back.  
  
Neil felt a rush of panic. ‘Wait,’ he called out.  
  
The forest was quiet again.  
  
‘How did you see the candy in my hand?’ Neil asked.  
  
It took a long time before the answer came.  
  
‘I have good eyes.’  
  
‘That seems obvious,’ Neil said, but he held out his hand with the three pieces of candy.  
  
‘Ask me better questions next time,’ was the response.  
  
At the end of the answer the voice sounded closer and Neil felt a shiver run over his skin as he realized he’d been so focused on the voice,  
he hadn’t even heard them move.  
  
Holding his breath, Neil waited for the moment he would feel the other’s hand.  
  
Again,  
their hand was warm.  
It felt even warmer against Neil’s frozen one.  
  
And for once, it didn’t feel _bad_.  
  
Neil’s breath hitched. ‘Why’s your hand so warm?’   
  
The hand paused, fingers still lightly pressed against his palm. The warmth burned pleasantly.  
  
Neil could actually _feel_ the answer  
in the hot breath against his face.  
  
‘I don’t get cold.’  
  
Then another piece of candy disappeared from Neil’s hand.  
  
☽  
  
Neil’s bare feet touched the warm, dark floor as he stepped down the ladder and moved to the cupboard for his breakfast.  
  
‘Your cloak is cold.’  
  
The words made Neil freeze, feeling hot and cold all over as he slowly turned towards his father. His father was sitting at the table, holding Neil’s cloak.  
  
‘What?’ Neil asked, trying to sound annoyed.  
  
Fear was already leaking through his words however.  
And his father caught on.  
  
‘Are you stupid? Do I need to remind you what cold is?’  
  
‘No, I—’  Neil started, but his father moved to his feet and before Neil could run, his father had grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him towards the door, shouldering it open.  
  
He threw Neil onto the street.  
  
Neil tried to catch his fall, but his hands scraped uselessly over the frozen, hard ground before his head banged against the ground with a soft _thud_.  
  
His father crouched beside him.  
Grabbed his head  
and pushed his cheek into the snow.  
  
‘What’s this, Neil?’ he asked calmly.  
  
The cold was _everywhere_ ,  
bleeding through Neil’s thin nightclothes and burning into his cheek.  
  
Neil didn’t struggle.  
  
‘It’s cold,’ he answered quietly.  
  
‘That’s right.’ His father let go of his head and stood up. ‘Don’t be stupid.’  
  
On trembling arms, not from cold but fear, Neil pushed himself up.  
  
‘Sorry,’ he whispered.  
  
In response, his father kicked him down, boot hitting Neil hard in the side.  
Neil’s head banged against the frozen ground again.  
It hurt.  
  
‘Sorry’s not enough. Don’t waste my time.’  
  
Footsteps. His father’s. Walking away.  
  
Only when Neil heard their front door close, did he push himself up.  
  
The left side of his face was numb from the cold and his hands stung.  
He looked down.  
Splattered on the white snow, his blood looked bright red.  
  
It reminded Neil of his cloak.  
  
It was the bright red that made people notice him, made them look at him.  
  
But when people saw _this_ shade of red, this shade of shame,  
they explicitly looked away.  
  
☽  
  
The piece of candy was glassy, transparent, and flecked with gold. The honey.  
  
Neil didn’t like candy.  
But he found he liked trading it for answers.  
  
Head resting on his folded arms, ignoring the stinging of his fresh wounds, Neil watched the candy shine in the fire’s light.  
He normally didn’t sit this close to the fire,  
but he felt cold.  
  
It was the last piece of candy, and Neil didn’t want to trade it for something easy, something he could already guess.  
  
He wanted to use it for some valuable information.   
  
_Why_ he wanted this was beyond Neil,  
and because he couldn’t even answer that question, he didn’t stop to think about why this wanting felt similar to his need to go outside, to run.  
  
☽  
  
‘Why are you in the forest every night?’  
  
‘No.’  
  
‘No?’ Neil repeated.  
  
‘I’m not going to answer that.’  
  
‘But I—’  
  
A shuffle of leaves, the sound of the stranger getting closer. But it wasn’t their normal way of slowly, carefully moving closer like Neil was a scared, little rabbit.  
  
These were quick, fast steps.  
Angry steps.  
  
Neil always recognised anger.  
  
‘That piece of candy isn’t enough.’  
  
‘We agreed to tra—'  
  
‘No,’ the voice interrupted him coldly. ‘It’s never going to be enough.’  
  
Oh.  
Neil’s heart fell.  
He closed his hand.  
  
_If I don’t want you,  
__who does?_ _  
__  
No one._ _  
__  
That’s right.  
  
_ Neil was never going to be enough.  
  
So he ran.  
  
☽  
  
Neil avoided the forest for a week.  
  
It hurt.  
It hurt and staying away was suffocating him.  
The house, the fear, his father.  
They were things he couldn’t outrun in the village.  
  
But his cloak hadn’t felt cold for long enough that his father stopped checking, stopped searching for the lies that Neil tried to hide between the truths.  
  
‘Lola’s going to have breakfast with us,’ his father said one morning.  
  
Without another thought, Neil moved back up the ladder and dressed to go out.  
His father noticed, but didn’t comment.  
  
It didn’t mean Neil felt safer.  
He knew his father would get him another way if he allowed Neil to escape this time.  
  
Wandering through the town, his red cloak standing out between the dark, wooden houses and villager’s drab clothes, Neil was content not to eat for the day, until the smell of bread drifted towards him, making his stomach clench.  
  
The little bakery Neil stumbled upon was exactly that.  
Little.  
There were crude shelves on the walls, holding baskets with baked goods and bread, and a small table in the middle of the room with more food.  
  
Neil grabbed a loaf and quickly walked up to the counter, only to find the guy with the dark curls again.   
The one who had called him sir.  
  
There was no fear on his face this time however.  
  
‘I want this,’ Neil said, putting the loaf down.   
  
‘Yes, sir!’  
  
Again with the sir.  
While the guy wrapped up the bread, Neil silently watched him.  
  
‘Here you go.’ The guy— _Nicky,_ Neil remembered—smiled. ‘And I hope that heals soon.’  
  
‘What?’ Neil asked. 

Nicky pointed at his face. ‘Those big bruises over there?’  
  
Oh.  
Neil had forgotten about them.  
He didn’t know why it was any of Nicky’s business, so he grabbed the bread and started for the door.   
  
‘It’s your father, right?’  
  
Neil’s hand paused over the door handle.  
  
He heard Nicky sigh behind him. ‘It’s not okay, you know.'  
  
Neil didn’t know how to respond.  
First it had been the stranger in the woods, noticing, _asking,  
_ and now this guy, Nicky, who was just as well a stranger to Neil.  
  
People did notice.  
But they never kept watching.  
They never commented,  
questioned.  
  
Luckily, Neil was saved from having to answer when the door suddenly opened.  
  
‘Neil,’ Renee said in surprise. Her eyes almost immediately focused on the bruises on his face though.  
  
Neil didn’t want to deal with this.  
  
‘I’m going,’ he said, shouldering past her, walking out the door.  
  
☽  
  
His feet brought him to the edge of the village,  
the beginning of the forest.  
  
Neil wasn’t surprised.  
  
He sat down on the cold ground with his legs crossed, eating the bread while he looked to the quiet forest.  
  
Against his better judgement, he wished he could run between the trees.  
Wished he’d asked the right question,  
wished he was enough.  
  
For those few minutes, he allowed himself to _wish._  
  
But then a shiver travelled over his arms and back, the hairs on the back of his neck raising.  
The feeling of being watched.  
  
Neil carefully looked over his shoulder,  
left,  
right.  
  
No one.  
  
No one he could see anyway.  
  
A twig snapped somewhere in the forest and Neil quickly turned around, searching the undergrowth, the trees, for the origin of the sound.  
  
He saw nothing.  
  
After a few minutes of silence, sitting stiffly on the cold ground, Neil reluctantly stood up and threw the piece of leftover bread into the forest.  
  
Whatever was out there,  
maybe it liked bread too.  
  
☽  
  
But the feeling of being watched followed him the entire way home.  
  
Neil tried to keep calm, walking back at a normal pace, but he was still looking around restlessly, trying to spot who or what was following him.  
  
It were his nerves, and fear, that made him forget who he was _actually_ avoiding.  
Because as he walked to the front door, he wasn’t paying enough attention. He bumped into Lola, who was just leaving the house.  
  
‘Neil,’ she smiled. It wasn’t a good smile. ‘I was afraid I wouldn’t catch you today.’  
  
Her voice lilted, almost singing out the word  
_catch.  
  
_ Neil wanted to immediately walk past her but his father was standing in the doorway, blocking the entrance.  
His arms were crossed.  
  
Neil’s punishment. 

‘What do you want?’ Neil asked, barely keeping the aggression out of his voice.  
  
Lola leaned in so close the tips of their noses were nearly touching.

She breathed out against Neil’s lips,  
and it was like inhaling smoke.  
It was suffocating  
and toxic.  
  
‘You,’ Lola whispered.  
  
‘ _Never_ ,’ Neil spat in disgust, staggering back. The horror must be visible on his face, but Lola merely laughed at him.  
  
‘Your protests sound like music to me.’  
  
Neil’s stomach recoiled and he took another step back.  
  
Giggling, Lola brushed past Neil, her fingers trailing over his shoulder,  
_burning_ , even through all the layers of clothes.  
  
When she was gone, Neil slowly looked to his father, still standing in the doorway.  
  
Nathan was looking down at him, a disappointed look on his face.  
His pale blue eyes were like frost.  
  
‘She’s the only one who wants you. Yet you turn her away.’   
  
Neil knew better than to say his father also wanted him.  
There was no way he could cover up that lie between truths.  
  
☽  
  
The darkness was stuffy and sweltering, and Neil was sweating, sticking to his bed.  
  
He felt trapped.  
  
Breathing was difficult.  
  
Neil heard his fast breaths, heard himself gasp and struggle against the heat, against the heavy weight pushing down on his chest.  
  
It felt like there was no way out,  
no way out of this life.  
Exce—

Neil lurched upright, grabbed his cloak and quickly climbed down the ladder,  
his feet silent on the floor, silent on the muddy snow, and then silent on the forest ground.  
  
But he wasn’t silent as he ran through the trees as fast as he could.  
Anything to get away from those thoughts.  
  
The wind was blowing harshly, the cold _biting_ like it was a monster hunting Neil down.  
  
It felt good.  
  
And to Neil’s surprise,  
he wasn’t alone.  
  
But instead of running together like they’d done night after night, Neil just pushed himself faster, faster  
_faster_.  
  
Trying to run away from everything and trying to shake off the stranger who could see so much of him,  
even though they were both in the darkness.  
  
Life, however, still wasn’t in Neil’s favour, and his legs couldn’t keep up the brutal pace.  
  
He fell down, crashing to the ground.   
  
And didn’t get up.  
  
It was so cold around him.  
Breathing was difficult.  
Everything—  
  
‘Everything... is so difficult,’ Neil croaked, his voice rough, his words weak between his harsh breaths.  
  
Footsteps to Neil’s right.  
  
The stranger had kept up with him,  
was already here.  
  
‘And it’s not... sometimes,’ Neil panted, ‘It’s… _always_.’  
  
‘I don’t believe in always,’ the voice said.  
  
Neil laughed without humor. ‘What _do_ you believe in?’  
  
‘Sunrise. Death.’  
  
Oh.  
Neil lifted his head and opened his eyes but all he saw was darkness.  
  
‘You answered me,’ he said in surprise, ‘I don’t have—’  
  
‘Shut up.’  
  
Neil did.

He also pushed himself up.  
  
The movement hurt his arms, the cuts and bruises from last time barely healed.  
A gust of wind blew over his head, lifting his cloak into the air for a moment. The cloak’s clasps tugged at him like they were telling him to _get up_.  
  
Neil reluctantly moved to his feet.  
  
‘We’ll trade truths,’ the voice proposed.  
  
‘You don’t want sweets?’  
  
A few moments passed, then.  
  
‘You can bring the sweets.’  
  
Neil smiled. ‘So I can come back?’  
  
He was glad for the silence of the forest,  
glad for the silence of the night,  
because it meant he could hear the words loud and clear.  
  
Could hear they were the truth.  
  
‘I never said you should go.’  
  
Around them, the howling wind was harsh and cold,  
and the ground underneath Neil’s feet was frozen—he could barely feel his hands and feet at this point.  
  
But Neil felt comfortably warm,  
just for a moment.  
  
☽  
  
‘Can I see you?’ Neil asked the inky black night.  
  
The answer took a long, long while.  
But because Neil was listening so intently, he heard the footsteps  
coming closer.  
  
He wasn’t meant to hear them.  
  
This was stalking, moving closer without frightening the prey.  
  
Neil’s heart beat loudly inside his chest as he heard the soft sounds of breathing.

Very close.  
  
The strange urge to reach out overcame Neil.  
He wanted to touch their warm hand again.  
  
He startled at his own reaction.  
  
Never did he want to touch something warm.  
  
‘Why?’ was the question.  
  
‘I don’t know,’ was his honest answer.   
  
☽

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; ‘O-oh gods, s-she’s d-dead!’
> 
> When one of my friends read 'maybe it liked bread too' (when Neil chucked that piece of bread in the forest) they started laughing really loudly and said "kevin: BREAD??? *dives after the bread" and idk that image was just REALLY funny to me, because I'm convincing you all there's this monster in the woods, while in reality it is just Kevin lurking, running after people and screaming for them to train with him.  
> Or something. It would just be the biggest and dumbest plot twist hihihi.
> 
> Okay, hihi, sorry, this might make more sense if you've read my bakery!au.
> 
> ANYWAYS, thank you so much for reading <3 <3  
> I hope you enjoyed it!  
> And let me know what you thought, if you want :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> Hope you're all doing great. We're halfway through the week! Just a few more days and then it's the weekend again :)
> 
> Enjoy!

When Neil woke up the next morning, it was with a new kind of feeling—one that thrummed beneath his skin.  
  
It made him skip the last sport and jump off the ladder instead.  
  
It made his stomach uneasy, but not in the usual way where he could barely eat. More like he was too impatient to eat.  
  
But the strangest thing was maybe the way his heart beat inside his chest.  
_Wildly._  
  
Neil wondered about the stranger.  
  
So much so that he even wondered what they looked like.  
Neil didn’t care for looks, but now he wondered.  
  
Grabbing his red cloak, Neil decided to walk through the village for a while.  
He still had time.  
They’d agreed to meet at sunset.  
  
☽  
  
Restless.  
  
Neil bumped against too many people, not really paying attention to where he was going, just that he was passing time.  
  
But he wasn't so far gone inside his head that he didn’t spot Lola.  
  
Neil froze in the middle of the road as he watched her duck behind a house, looking left and right before she did so.  
  
Whatever she was doing, it couldn’t be good.  
  
He took a few hesitating steps in her direction, wondering if he should follow her, wondering how much it would cost him if he got caught,  
when someone ran past him,  
screaming.  
  
_What?_  
  
Neil ran after them.  
  
‘What’s wrong?’  
  
The guy didn’t stop, so Neil grabbed him by the arm and forcefully turned him around. ‘What happened?’   
  
The guy’s eyes shifted left and right nervously, tears streaming down his face. ‘I-It’s— T-The monster.'  
  
Neil’s heart stopped.  
  
‘What?’   
  
‘I-it took my g-girlfriend,’ the guy cried out. ‘O-oh _gods_ , s-she’s d-dead!’  
  
Without another word, Neil turned around and ran towards the forest.  
  
☽  
  
His father was already there.  
So were a few other people, mostly older men who were on his father’s council.  
  
They all stood in a half circle around—  
  
Neil walked closer.  
  
The snow was red.  
There were large bite marks all over her arms and legs, and a part of her throat was missing.  
Ripped out.  
Blood dribbled out of her mouth. Was still dribbling. She hadn’t been dead for long.  
  
Then Neil saw it.  
  
One of her hands was cut off.  
  
Though it wasn’t _cleanly_ cut, it didn’t look like the monster had done this.  
It simply couldn’t have.  
  
Then his father saw him. Nathan didn’t seem surprised, but he was most definitely not pleased.  
  
‘Go back, Neil,’ he ordered.  
  
‘Why’s her hand like that?’ Neil asked.   
  
The older men fidgeted.   
They looked uncomfortable by his question.  
  
His father’s gaze was like ice. ‘I won’t ask again.’  
  
And yet the words were out of Neil’s mouth before he could stop them.   
  
‘You never ask anyway.’  
  
It was too late to stop his father. His father walked over to him with two big steps  
and slapped Neil across the face.  
  
The force made Neil stagger back,  
his cheek already burning.  
  
‘ _Why_ don’t I ask?’ his father asked him slowly, degradingly.  
  
Neil took a deep breath,  
breathing in the cold, the forest, the place he was supposed to be free from this fear.  
  
‘Becaus—’  
  
Another _slap_. ‘Speak up!’  
  
‘Because I’m too stupid to understand you otherwise,’ Neil answered loudly.  
  
His words rang through the woods.  
  
A twig snapped somewhere to Neil’s right,  
but he didn’t dare move, afraid his father was going to snap too.  
He was afraid of what would happen if he so much as breathed wrong now.  
  
Neil’s left hand twitched.  
  
His father took a deep breath. ‘That’s right.’  
  
Then he moved back to the body on the ground.  
  
Ignoring the stinging of his cheek, Neil looked out into the forest for a second, _longingly_ , before walking back to the house,  
and the fire.  
  
His hands clenched and unclenched nervously.  
  
☽  
  
Neil watched the sun set from the tiny hole in his wall, and against his better judgement  
 _wished_.  
  
Suddenly the front door shut with a bang.  
  
Neil’s heart jumped inside his chest and he quickly shuffled back to his bed until—  
A loud bang, downstairs.  
  
One of the chairs getting knocked over.  
Stumbling, heavy footsteps.  
Another bang.   
It sounded like their cupboard.  
  
‘ _Shit_!’ his father swore.  
  
Neil crawled towards the ladder and peered over the edge, but he couldn’t see his father. He was probably in the kitchen.   
  
The door opened again, and Neil ducked when he saw Lola walk inside.  
  
‘Nathan,’ she said. ‘What are you doing here? Let’s go to the w—’  
  
‘Quiet!’ his father snapped.  
  
‘You’re hurt,’ Lola argued. Neil wondered why she wasn’t afraid.  
  
‘Only because I was careless. I won’t be next time.’  
  
His father was pacing. Heavy, worried footsteps sounded through the house like an anxious heartbeat. ‘So close to sunset. I didn’t know that affected it,’ his father mused.  
  
‘Let me get him,’ Lola said eagerly. ‘I’ll get—’  
  
‘No. You know why we can’t.’  
  
‘But—’  
  
‘ _Enough_!’ his father thundered, and Neil heard Lola gasp. The gasp sounded strangled, like she was doubled over. Like his father had punched her.  
  
The front door opened again,  
and the footsteps receded as they went wherever Lola wanted his father to go.   
  
Their conversation repeated over and over in Neil’s head.  
His father had fought the monster, that he could figure out.  
But why?  
  
Neil didn’t think his father had any _actual_ interest in keeping the villagers safe,  
but—and maybe more importantly—why did _Lola_ think she’d make a difference?  
  
☽  
  
Neil stood at the edge of the village,  
the beginning of the forest.  
  
The toes of his boots were standing on brown, dead leaves,  
the heels on mud and ice.  
  
Neil had missed their appointment.  
He’d asked for them to meet, had wanted it so badly for some reason, and then hadn’t show up.  
  
Hadn’t shown up for a week, being locked inside the house, his father’s anger a burning and suffocating thing.  
  
But when Neil had seen the setting sun that evening, he couldn’t stay away anymore.  
  
He took a deep breath of cold air,   
then stepped over the invisible line separating him from the forest.  
He pulled out his cloak and, wrapping it around himself, walked through the forest, listening intently for sounds, footsteps, any sign that he was being followed.  
  
‘So you’re back.’  
  
Neil startled so badly, his body froze for a second or two, going into full survival mode.  
Then he snapped his head around and—  
  
Leaning against a tree, wearing a black, rough looking cloak, was a guy.  
  
Neil took in the blonde hair, the brown eyes, and the empty stare. The guy was shorter than him, just a little, but he was definitely more muscled.  
And.  
  
‘You’re young,’ Neil said.  
  
The stranger—though it felt inaccurate to call him that at this point—raised an eyebrow as he shortly looked Neil over.   
Whatever he saw, he didn’t seem impressed.  
  
‘We’re the same age.’  
  
Neil stood a little straighter. ‘What’s someone your age doing in the woods?’  
  
He received a deadpan stare. ‘You must really want to die.’ The guy took a step closer. ‘You don’t know me.’  
  
Neil returned the stare. ‘You don’t know _me_ either.’  
  
Silence.  
  
They stubbornly stared each other down for a few minutes, neither wanting to back down.  
  
Meanwhile, the sun was slowly setting, its rays a startlingly bright orange,   
making it seem as though they were standing in a forest fire.  
  
Neil saw the other’s eyes flicker briefly to his hair, which had to be glowing an impossible shade of red in this light.  
  
Neil wanted to gloat about winning when he suddenly noticed the scar near the stranger’s mouth.  
  
It was a clean cut.  
Neil wondered.  
  
Without thinking, his eyes drifted down the other’s face, and—  
That was when he noticed the scar on the back of the other's hand.  
A burn scar.  
  
Neil’s left hand twitched.  
  
‘What happened?’ he asked.  
  
Noticing Neil’s gaze, the guy shoved his hand inside his pocket and repeated, ‘What happened?’  
  
Neil saw the other was staring at his left hand.   
  
‘I got burned,’ Neil answered shortly.  
  
Not a lie, but also not the entire truth.  
  
And the stranger seemed to know this, because he leveled Neil with another unimpressed stare.  
A stare that caught Neil again.  
  
Neil didn’t know what it was, what made him stare back, but it felt near impossible to look away from those hazel eyes.  
  
A bird flew away from a tree somewhere, wings flapping loudly, startling Neil out of staring.  
  
The other guy blinked a few times,  
the only sign he’d been affected,   
that he might've felt the same, strange connection.  
  
‘Did you bring the sweets?’  
  
Digging inside his pocket, Neil grabbed a handful and held them out, palm up.  
  
The stranger moved forward,  
but Neil quickly closed his hand.  
  
‘What’s your name?’   
  
The other paused.  
Looked thoughtfully at Neil before answering.  
  
‘Andrew.’  
  
When Neil opened his hand in response, Andrew didn’t move to get the sweets.  
  
Neil raised an eyebrow.  
Andrew crossed his arms.  
  
Their gazes locked again, though it felt more like a clash,  
seeing who would bend first.  
  
‘I thought you wanted this,’ Neil said, not breaking their eye contact.  
  
‘Not a dog.’  
  
‘How else are you going to get it?’  
  
‘You’re smart,’ Andrew said, eyes flashing for a second.  ‘I’m sure you can think of something.’  
  
But he wasn’t.  
Smart.  
  
His father’s voice rang through his head.  
  
_Too stupid.  
  
_ Yet Neil picked up one of the pieces of candy and held it between his thumb and index finger.  
In the warm, orange sunlight, it glowed almost golden.

Taking slow steps, Neil closed the distance between them,   
for once not waiting in the dark for the other to move.  
  
Andrew watched him cautiously, body tense like he was ready to fight.  
  
It was a stark contrast with Neil’s instinct.  
  
When there were only a few inches between them left, he stopped.   
  
Andrew’s nostrils flared for a second. Neil studied the rest of his expression, his body language, but saw it wasn’t from anger.   
Strange.  
His eyes flickered to the scar on Andrew’s mouth, the clean cut that ran over his bottom lip and a little down his chin.  
  
And then, looking into Andrew’s brown eyes,   
Neil brought the piece of candy to Andrew’s mouth.  
Pressed it against his lips.  
  
The tip of his finger touched Andrew’s warm, _oh_ , upper lip,  
and it burned like only the coldest of ice could,  
the feeling quickly spreading through Neil’s body.  
  
Until Andrew flinched back.  
  
Neil immediately took a step back, the piece of candy falling to the floor with a soft _thud_.  
  
Andrew’s expression was blank once more,  
but he was the first to look away.  
  
‘This was a bad idea,’ Andrew said.  
  
The sun was almost completely behind the horizon now, its last rays of red light filtering through bare branches.  
  
Neil didn’t think meeting here was a bad idea.  
  
‘I told you I’m not afraid of the monster.’  
  
Andrew looked at him from the corner of his eyes. ‘Aren’t you?’  
  
‘No.’  
  
‘What about the wolf?’  
  
Neil blinked in surprise.  
Wasn’t that the monster they’d been talking about?  
  
Andrew turned towards him, observing his reaction, eyeing him almost knowingly.  
It was unclear to Neil _what_  exactly he knew.  
  
‘No,’ Neil answered eventually. ‘I’m not afraid of the wolf.’  
  
‘Why?’  
  
‘It’s killed only girls.’  
  
For a moment, Neil swore Andrew’s eyes flashed again, a bronze shine that looked...  
inhuman.  
It was gone before he could comment on it.  
  
‘It’s an animal,’ Andrew said flatly. ‘It doesn’t think.’  
  
Neil said the words before he’d thought them over. ‘Then I’m an animal too.’  
  
Immediately, with something that sounded like a growl, Andrew pushed himself off the tree and stalked towards Neil in two quick strides.  
  
Neil instinctively focused on something else instead of the eyes.  
That usually diffused his father’s anger.  
If only a little.  
  
But he could still see Andrew all but baring his teeth.  
Neil noticed they looked… sharp.  
Like fangs.  
  
Andrew growled. ‘Look at me.’  
  
Neil did.  
  
Andrew said, ‘Don’t.’  
  
Andrew said, ‘Don’t you believe for _one_ _fucking second_ anything that man says.’  
  
Neil asked, ‘How do you know?’  
  
And Andrew’s anger was gone in a second.  
Like he’d transformed.  
  
His eyes still held Neil’s gaze,   
staring at him intensely.  
  
‘Why do you care?’ Neil asked, when Andrew didn’t answer.  
  
A thought whispered sweetly inside Neil’s mind,  
telling him he actually   
wanted   
Andrew to care.  
  
But.  
  
‘I don’t,’ Andrew said, voice emotionless, killing off the small flame inside Neil’s chest. One Neil had no idea had been burning.  
  
It made sense though.  
  
Neil looked away.  
  
His eye fell on the last sliver of sun that was just disappearing behind the trees, behind the horizon.  
He watched the last of the flaming light go out.  
Gone.  
  
And then it was dark.  
  
‘Open your hand,’ a voice said in the darkness.  
  
Neil did.  
  
_Crunch_ said the leaves in front of Neil,  
as Andrew moved closer.  
  
And then warm fingers pressed briefly against his hand,  
picking up a piece of candy.  
  
Neil’s heart skipped a beat.  
The warmth was startling against his cold skin.  
  
‘Neil,’ Andrew said, hot breath brushing against Neil’s lips. ‘You shouldn’t either.’  
  
Neil’s heart was beating wildly inside his chest.  
  
He breathed in, needing the cold, the freezing air to burn away his nerves.  
But all he breathed in  
was Andrew’s breath, hot and dizzying.  
  
Neil didn’t mind.  
  
☽

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; ‘Where are you every evening, Nathaniel?’
> 
> Hope this was good!! Geez that meeting turned out to be over 1,000 words hahah. I normally never write scenes that long. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3  
> And let me know what you thought, if you want! :D
> 
> (Oh and I want to apologise for if my replies are a little later than usual. Life is really stressful right now. I'm still replying, it just might take me longer sometimes. Sorry in advance!)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!!
> 
> Hope you had a fantastic weekend! <3 
> 
> I went to a convention this weekend, forced myself to not write for two days (which was hard but kind of relaxing?) AND won 2nd place at the short story competition. I'm still overwhelmed. It was so strange to talk about my writing with publishers, editors, and just other writers. It was REALLY cool. Up on that stage, I thought, maybe I could actually dream about one day publishing something, you know?
> 
> Ahh, sorry for the rant! 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy this longer chapter <3 <3

The next day, when the sun was setting, Neil returned to the forest.  
  
It didn’t feel like a choice.  
He certainly hadn’t made the choice, his feet already bringing him towards the edge of village before he could stop himself.  
He didn’t stop himself.  
  
Like Andrew’s gaze had done,  
like prey,  
Neil felt caught.  
  
His fingers brushed against tree trunks as he passed them, and it didn’t take long for footsteps to follow him silently through the forest.  
  
Neil struggled to keep the smile off his face.  
  
‘You’re good at that,’ he said.  
  
‘You make it easy.’  
  
Neil raised his eyebrows and turned around. ‘I do?’  
  
In response, Andrew moved closer, fingers trailing over the trees Neil had just touched.  
His gaze was on the ground as he placed his feet almost exactly over Neil’s boot prints.  
  
Neil crossed his arms as he watched Andrew show off.

When he was just a few inches away, Andrew stopped.  
Not as close as yesterday, but close enough for Neil to touch. Ifhe wanted to.  
  
His mind was very vocal about the answer.  
  
A sudden gust of cold wind ruffled Andrew’s hair, and Neil watched blond strands fall in front of his eyes. His own cloak billowed in the air,  
the red colour intrusively bright in the winter forest.  
  
‘Tell me,’ Andrew said.  
  
‘Tell you what?’  
  
But Andrew brushed past Neil, his shoulder warm as it pressed against him for a short second.  
  
Neil took a deep breath and followed him, eyes on the ground, watching their boots break little twigs and leaves as they walked in silence.  
Their breaths clouded in front of them, the smoke nearly orange in the setting sun.

Neil thought about what he was willing to give. What he was willing to offer Andrew.  
  
The answer was surprising.  
  
‘I'm afraid every day of my life. But when I’m in the forest, it’s— I feel free,’ he said quietly. ‘Every day, I’m burning, suffocating, and it feels like life’s choking me, like I won’t make it out alive. But then I’m here and I…’ Neil paused.  
  
‘You’re living.’  
  
Neil looked at Andrew, who was staring straight ahead, expression unreadable.  
Or maybe just bored.  
  
‘Exactly,’ Neil said.  
  
Quick as lightning, a rabbit scurried over the path, twigs snapping under its little feet.  
Neil startled and instinctively took a step back.  
  
The back of his hand briefly brushed against Andrew’s hand.  
  
Neil felt scars.  
  
‘Sorry,’ he said immediately, but Andrew was looking down at Neil’s hands.

Again, it looked like his eyes were flashing, if only for a moment.  
Neil wondered.

Without a word, Andrew continued walking.  
  
Still wondering, Neil followed.

When the sun was almost entirely gone, just a sliver of burning red remaining, Andrew spoke up.  
  
‘I don’t feel free here.’  
  
Neil watched him from the corner of his eyes, but Andrew didn’t appear anything other than calm.  
  
‘Where do you feel free?’ he asked carefully.

It was brief, and Neil wouldn’t have caught it if he hadn’t been looking, but Andrew’s jaw clenched.  
Anger.  
Then it was gone again.  
  
‘Nowhere,’ Andrew said flatly.  
  
It sounded forced.  
  
☽  
  
And the next day.  
  
‘Back again.’  
  
Neil swivelled around, startled that Andrew had managed to sneak up on him again.  
  
‘You’re here too,’ he replied.  
  
Instead of answering, Andrew watched Neil for a moment longer.  
  
Neil expected his heart to stop beating so hard, now that he’d had a moment to catch his breath, but.  
  
When Andrew started walking deeper into the forest, finally breaking their eye contact,  
Neil had to take a deep breath, feeling light-headed and unsteady.  
  
☽  
  
‘Nathaniel,’ his father said, sitting down opposite Neil, whose hand froze halfway to his mouth. Neil’s eyes flickered to his father’s face, which looked deceptively calm, to his father’s hands, which were relaxed.  
  
‘Yes, father?’  
  
Instead of replying, his father grabbed the last piece of bread from Neil’s plate and took a bite.   
  
The silence was tense.  
Neil felt himself start to sweat.  
  
After his father had taken a drink from Neil’s cup, he smiled calmly.  
  
Neil quickly dropped his gaze to the table.  
  
‘Where are you every evening, Nathaniel?’  
  
His father’s voice was casual.  
Calm.  
  
But Neil’s heart was going crazy inside his chest,  
beating so fast it hurt.  
Yet he forced his voice to sound calm too.  
  
‘At the bakery. Sometimes the blacksmith.’  
  
‘You like her?’  
  
‘What?’ Neil looked up in surprise.  
  
‘The Blacksmith’s daughter.’  
  
Before he could stop himself, Neil said, ‘No.’  
  
Stupid.  
It would’ve been the perfect cover.  
  
_Too stupid_.  
  
‘Where’s the bread?’ his father asked.  
  
‘I eat it,’ Neil answered shortly.  
Because those answers were easier.  
Less time to allow the fear to creep in.  
  
Resting his elbows on the table, his father leaned forward. ‘And where do you get the money?’  
  
Neil forced himself to grin, like a normal teenager who knew he’d been had for doing something "rebellious".  
  
‘I put it on your name.’  
  
There was only the slightest waver in his voice.  
Barely noticeable.  
  
His father stared at him, cold blue eyes piercing like ice shards.  
Neil didn’t dare blink.  
  
_Badumbadumbadumbadum_.  
  
Then his father leaned back again.  
  
Neil allowed himself not even one sign of relief, continuing to hold his father’s gaze like his life depended on it.  
He wasn’t so sure it didn’t.  
  
‘Guess I’ll pay it off tomorrow,’ his father said.  
  
_What?_  
Neil’s eyes widened in shock.  
  
Of course his father noticed, a grin stretching on his face. ‘ _Why_ , did you buy so much?’  
  
Neil wasn’t fooled.  
  
It was a cold grin  
that spoke of burning.  
  
☽  
  
For once, Neil ran through the dark woods of the village.  
The foundation of every house here.  
  
The only difference was that all these trees were dead.  
And he would be too,  
if he didn’t hide his lie between truths.  
  
The little bell hanging by the bakery’s door nearly flew off its hook when Neil threw the door open and ran inside.  
  
‘Nicky,’ he said, stalking towards the counter.  
  
Nicky looked at him with wide eyes. ‘S-sir?’  
  
‘I need… to buy bread,’ Neil panted.  
  
‘Um. Well, you’re, uh. At the right place? Sir.’  
  
Neil’s eyes darted through the shop, over the shelves, and finally settled on the baskets filled with bread rolls.  
He grabbed it and put it on the counter.  
  
‘How much is this?’  
  
Nicky’s blinked. ‘Uh, that’s— Do you want the basket too?’  
  
Neil waved his hand to indicate it didn’t matter.  
  
‘Okay. Then I guess around 35 copper pieces?’  
  
Not enough.  
Neil gritted his teeth and looked at the other baskets. One was filled with sugary buns.  
  
Even through the panic,  
Neil could feel warm fingers against his hand, taking the sweets as payment for answers.  
  
Perfect.  
  
Grabbing that basket too, Neil put it next to the other and looked expectantly at Nicky, whose mouth had fallen open.  
When he noticed Neil’s look, he quickly closed it.  
  
‘ _Right_. Those are more expensive because of the, uh, sugar… So that’s 80 copper pieces, sir.’  
  
‘Can’t you make it 70 copper pieces and 1 gold piece?’ Neil asked in irritation, upping the price.  
  
Nicky looked at him disbelief. ‘But that’s more expensive?’  
  
‘ _Can you_?’  
  
‘Well, obviously, but—’  
  
‘Good. Put it on my father’s name.’  
  
This finally gave a different reaction.  
  
Nicky’s face paled, and he suddenly looked _very_ afraid. ‘What?’  
  
‘Put the amount on my father’s name,’ Neil repeated, hands twitching from nerves and adrenaline.  
  
‘I guess—’  
  
‘No,’ someone said sharply.  
  
Neil turned around, wanting to see who was putting a stop to his life.  
He froze when he saw the guy leaning against the door opening, leading back to what was probably their house.  
  
‘Andrew?’ Neil asked in surprise.  
  
Behind him, Nicky made a choked off sound.  
  
But Andrew only scowled at him.  
There was so much anger,  
but no reflective eyes or sharp canines.  
  
The atmosphere in the room had turned _bad_ pretty quickly.  
  
Neil didn't know how to change it, but luckily Nicky was the first to speak.  
  
‘Did you know… Andrew?’  
  
His voice nearly broke at the name.  
  
‘What?’ Neil asked, confused. ‘ _Did_  ?’  
  
‘Just buy your shit and go,’ Andrew said.  
  
‘But—’  
  
‘Andrew’s dead,’ Nicky said quickly. The words were rushed, pushed out like that made them easier to say.  
  
‘ _What?_ ’ Neil said.  
  
Andrew scowled. ‘What the fuck do you need two baskets for anyway?’   
  
‘I thought Andrew didn’t speak to a lot of people…’ Nicky trailed off.  
  
‘Trying to get fat fast enough so your father won't marry you off to that bitch?’ Andrew sneered.  
  
Neil felt dizzy.  
  
‘...What?’ he asked weakly. ‘Marry me off? Dead?’  
  
He looked to Nicky and Andrew, who had both finally stopped talking. They were looking at him like he was crazy. Neil focused his attention on Andrew, who was still glaring at him.  
  
Quickly, Neil looked down at Andrew’s hands.  
All he saw was clear skin.  
No scars.  
  
‘You’re not Andrew,’ Neil said.  
  
Not-Andrew rolled his eyes. ‘Obviously.’  
  
‘Andrew’s dead, sir,’ Nicky whispered. _Back to the sir_.  
  
But Neil knew this wasn’t the case.  
_Right?_  
Something else must be going on.  
  
He turned back to the guy leaning against the doorpost, the guy who looked like Andrew, but didn’t look at him like Andrew.  
  
‘Why… that?’ Neil asked, waving his hand at him.  
  
‘Ever heard of twins?’  
  
Oh, that made sense.  
Neil nodded.  
  
‘What’s your name?’  
  
‘Like hell am I tell—’  
  
‘Aaron,’ Nicky answered.  
  
‘What do you care anyway?’ Aaron sneered. ‘Don’t you have to start eating so you have a chance of finishing all that before the end of the week?’  
  
Aaron’s words brought Neil’s attention back to _why_ he was here.  
He’d rather not spill his secrets, but he had a feeling he might have to.  
  
‘I told my father I’ve been coming here for the last couple of days. Week, actually,’ Neil explained. ‘I said I bought bread here on his name. He’s going to pay it off tomorrow.’  
  
‘So we need to cover for you,’ Nicky guessed.  
  
‘We’re not,’ Aaron said.  
  
Neil decided he didn’t like Aaron.  
Not because he couldn’t understand that Aaron didn’t want anything to do with his father. It was more the way Aaron said it.  
Like he was happy not helping Neil.  
  
‘You’ll get paid,’ Neil said.  
  
‘You’re still taking those two baskets with you.’  
  
‘I won’t.’  
  
That made Aaron shut up.  
Nicky spoke up softly.

‘We need the money, Aaron…’

Instead of answering, Aaron glared at Neil for a few moments before shrugging and walking away, shutting the door behind him with a bang.  
  
‘1 gold piece and 70 copper pieces, right?’ Nicky asked. Back to business.

Neil nodded and picked up the baskets to put them back on the shelves.  
  
The smell of the sugary buns filled his nostrils.  
Reminded him of the candy,  
of warm hands and insistent eyes.  
  
‘Actually…’ Neil said.  
  
☽  
  
It was familiar,  
to walk into the woods,  
to hear the leaves _crunching_ underneath his boots,  
to feel the freezing wind play with the ends of his cloak.  
  
It was familiar, to walk next to Andrew,  
to hear his rough, almost bored voice,  
to feel his heart beating inside his chest like a bird taking flight from a branch.  
  
And it was stupid.  
That was for sure.  
  
For a while, Neil toyed with the wrappings around the sugary bun.  
Then he thrust it at Andrew.  
  
Andrew paused and looked blankly at the package.  
  
Then his warm fingers brushed against Neil’s hand as he took the confection from him. He slowly peeled away the wrappings.  
  
When Andrew saw what it was, his eyes found Neil’s again.  
  
Neither of them said anything.  
  
Neil’s heart pounded loudly inside his chest, and he wondered if Andrew could hear.  
A normal person couldn’t.   
But Neil started to figure out that Andrew wasn’t normal.  
  
Andrew sighed. ‘Don’t look like that.’  
  
‘Like what?’  
  
Instead of answering, Andrew took a bite of the sugary bun.  
Neil watched his sharp canines tear into the soft bread and felt dizzy.  
  
It was why the words suddenly flew out of his mouth.  
  
‘Who’s Aaron?’  
  
Neil had thought Andrew wasn’t affected by the cold weather,  
but now Andrew’s entire body seemed to freeze.  
  
Then, eyes flashing, Andrew grabbed Neil by his shirt and pushed him hard against a tree.  
  
Immediately Neil’s chest hurt, a stabbing pain, and when he looked down, he saw that Andrew’s nails had pierced through his shirt and skin.  
  
Andrew grabbed his chin with his other hand and forced Neil's head up.  
His teeth were bared in anger.  
  
‘ _What_ do you know about Aaron?’ he growled.  
  
It reminded Neil of the wolf in the woods.  
The low growl.  
A warning.  
  
‘He looks like you,’ Neil answered, not impressed by the whole intimidation act. ‘And he’s an asshole.’  
  
Andrew growled again, a low, rumbling sound deep in his chest.  
A threat.  
Andrew tightened his grip on Neil’s shirt, nails scratching his skin.  
  
The pain burned hot and cold.  
  
Neil shivered.  
  
‘What are you trying to do?’ Neil asked, staring defiantly into Andrew’s eyes. ‘Are you going to hurt me?’  
  
Andrew stared back, teeth still bared, grip still tight.  
  
‘You’re not going to be the first,’ Neil said simply. ‘You should see my back.’  
  
In response, Andrew leaned in so much closer than ever before.  
  
Their breaths mingled in the air.  
With every inhale, Neil could almost taste Andrew’s anger.  
It burned.  
  
‘Show me,’ Andrew said in a low voice.  
  
Neil hadn’t expected Andrew to really want to see,  
to want to see the horrible planes of his back, overrun by scars like streaks of water that had been frozen.  
  
Yet he did.  
For no one else, not even himself, did Neil undress,  
but now he was unclasping his cloak and chucking off his shirt and undershirt.  
  
Andrew’s gaze was anger, aggression, burning,  
as he watched Neil turn around.  
  
And then,  
silence.  
  
Another gust of wind blew through the woods,  
like it knew Neil had nothing to protect himself with.  
  
Goosebumps raised on his skin.  
Neil shivered again.  
  
Dropping his head, he looked at the ground underneath his feet. He didn’t want to think about what Andrew was seeing.  
  
_Crunch_ said the leaves to Neil’s right.  
Andrew, probably.  
Neil kept his gaze on the ground.  
  
‘The monster,’ Andrew said.  
  
Neil trembled from the cold.  
Or maybe Andrew’s voice.  
Maybe both.  
  
‘It wasn’t the monster who did this,’ he answered quietly.  
  
‘Wasn’t it?’  
  
Neil looked at Andrew in surprise.  
He hadn’t meant to,  
but Andrew wasn’t angry anymore.  
  
His face was calm.  
Blank.  
  
‘When?’ Andrew asked.  
  
‘Always,’ Neil answered.  
  
This time, Andrew seemed to believe in always.  
  
☽  
  
‘How was your bread?’ his father asked when Neil entered the house.  
  
With steady hands, Neil unclasped his cloak,  
just like he’d done in the woods,  
and hung it on a hook next to the door.  
  
He thought about the answer.  
  
Though the bread had been sweet,  
sugar sticking to Andrew’s fingers,  
it had also been rough.  
It had been anger,  
Neil’s blood dripping off Andrew’s fingers.  
  
‘It was okay,’ Neil answered, a wholly inadequate word, then turned to his father, forgetting one  
crucial  
detail.  
  
Instantly, his father’s eyes focused on the trails of blood on Neil’s shirt.  
The holes  
in his story.  
  
His father slowly moved to his feet,  
and slowly walked towards Neil,  
every step punctuated by a dozen of Neil’s frantic heartbeats.  
  
‘What…’ his father said, agonizingly slowly closing the distance between them, ‘is…’  
  
Neil felt frozen, not moving an inch  
except for his left hand, which twitched uncontrollably.  
  
His father stopped in front of him and looked down at Neil’s ruined shirt.  
  
With one finger, he touched the wounds on Neil’s chest.  
  
‘...That.’  
  
Before Neil could lie, his father curled his finger inside the wound, tearing skin.  
A white hot, _searing_ pain spread through Neil’s chest and he gasped out in pain, flinching back, falling on the ground when his father put his other hand on Neil’s chest and _shoved_.  
  
Blood streamed out of Neil’s wound as his father crouched beside him,  
observing the wounds and the blood,  
dripping onto their dark floor.  
  
‘Looks like we need to close that before you lose too much blood.’  
  
Grunting in pain, Neil tried to push himself up, but his father put a hand on his chest and stopped him.  
  
‘Stay still, Neil. This will only take a minute.’  
  
Footsteps.  
Walking away, to the burning fireplace.  
  
‘No…’ Neil grunted, moving to his knees. Blood dripped down his arm.  
His left hand spasmed against the floor, and Neil watched the scars contort.  
  
A horrible scraping sound.  
  
The poker dragging over the floor.  
  
‘It’ll only take a minute,’ his father promised.  
  
Neil knew nothing about medicine, or healing,  
but he knew it should take less than a minute.  
  
His father grinned, and kicked Neil hard in the chest.  
Neil fell back with a strangled gasp, head hitting the floor with a bang.  
  
Before he could try to get up,  
his father’s boot was on his chest, keeping him down as he swung the poker around.  
  
Neil watched the lines left behind in the air by its glowing end.  
  
‘Ready?’ his father grinned.  
  
‘N—’  
  
The scalding end of the poker pressed against Neil’s chest and within seconds, the smell of burning flesh reached his nose.  
He gagged  
and then the _burning—  
__the burning  
  
_ It hurt—  
hurt  
so much  
  
Tears streamed down his face as Neil tried to move, tried to slap the poker away, but his body was going into shock.  
He could feel it shake and spasm, could feel his hands cramping while the poker burned away his flesh.  
  
‘There we go,’ his father finally said, years later, as he pulled the poker away.  
  
Smoke drifted into the air.  
  
Neil was barely conscious.  
  
His father kicked his leg. ‘I healed you, son. What do you say?’  
  
Head turned to the side, Neil stared into the fireplace,  
stared at the red flames.  
  
Burning.  
  
His tears continued to drip onto the floor.  
_drip, drip, drip._  
They mixed with the red.  
  
So much red.  
  
Body frozen from shock and pain,  
Neil couldn’t look away from it.  
  
He almost wished the fire would consume him.  
  
‘Thank you… father.’  
  
☽

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; 'You smell like smoke.'
> 
> i'm so sorry for the angst.
> 
> AND THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH ohmygosh FOR BEING SO PATIENT AND SO INCREDIBLY SWEET <3 I'm sorry I'm shouting, but it just really gave me the peace of mind to take a weekend off of writing. I don't like not writing for so long haha, but like I said, it was realllyyy good on the mind. But don't worry. Three days without writing is really all I can manage before I start going crazy, so it's back to writing tomorrow :) 
> 
> Anyways, sorry, I keep rambling. I'm a little tired hihi. 
> 
> Thank you for reading <3 <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> So there's a thunderstorm, and I'm sitting on the couch with my tea and my book, because this weather is perfect for tea and books, and I thought it would be nice if you had something to read too! (besides all the amazing fanfics out there hihi).
> 
> So I hope you enjoy!

It took Neil six days  
and seven nights  
before he could even think about anything but _burning_.  
  
It was maddening to be so close to the intense fire downstairs,  
and every time Neil forced himself to go down to eat, he watched the flames  
and remembered.  
  
His chest _burned_.  
  
On the seventh day, an hour before sunset, Neil stopped dead in his tracks as he heard the sound.  
  
A howl.  
  
The wolf in the woods.  
  
Neil took a rattled, strangled breath.  
  
The woods.  
Outside.  
  
His father had asked him if he knew what cold was.  
If he had asked now, Neil would’ve answered no.  
  
But that howl made something inside Neil’s chest ache, something that didn’t feel like burning—an insistent and nervous urge.  
  
Neil’s eyes drifted to his cloak, hanging on its hook just how he’d left it seven days ago.  
  
Taking another breath, and feeling like he was suffocating in the stuffy heat, Neil walked towards it.  
He grasped the velvety fabric.  
  
☽  
  
His feet touched the forest ground.  
  
Neil blinked as a cold wind ruffled his hair, startled by how good it felt against his overheated skin.  
  
Closing his eyes, Neil took in a deep breath.  
Deeper.  
  
The air was freezing, icy as he breathed it in, and numbing his face already.  
  
_Crunch_ said the leaves in front of him.  
  
It didn’t make sense.  
They were so close to the edge of the village.  
  
Neil didn’t open his eyes, instead focusing on his breathing, on taking in as much cold as he could.  
  
‘You smell like smoke.’  
  
The words were just barely that.  
They were more like a growl.  
A threat.  
  
Not to Neil this time.  
  
‘Sorry I couldn’t make it this week,’ Neil said, voice raspy from not using it for six-and-a-half days.  
  
Another growl.  
Another gust of wind.  
  
Neil felt his cloak billow, knew it must be flashing as red as the poker’s end—  
  
‘Let’s go,’ Andrew growled, interrupting his memories.  
  
Neil opened his eyes.  
He’d expected Andrew to have already started walking like he normally did, but Andrew was still standing in front of him, eyes trained on Neil.  
Eyes flashing.  
  
Waiting for him.  
  
Dazedly, Neil started walking.  
  
Andrew followed right behind.  
  
The light of the setting sun painted the entire forest in a vibrant red,  
and Neil hated it.  
He swallowed away the bile rising in his throat and focused on their feet instead.  
  
When they were deeper into the forest, Andrew suddenly stopped.  
  
‘Show me.’  
  
Neil looked at him in confusion.  
  
Did Andrew really want to see the proof that Neil was _not good enough_?  
That he’d been too stupid.  
  
It was possible that Andrew would go, would leave when he saw another one of Neil’s defects, his shortcomings.  
Maybe that would be better.  
  
It surprised Neil when he didn’t think it would.  
  
Staring at the ground, Neil reached for his cloak and unclasped it, before lifting his shirt over his head. He winced as the fabric pulled at his skin, and gritted his teeth when he took hold of his undershirt.  
  
The cold wind felt nice against his burned off skin.  
  
It was nowhere near healed.  
It was ugly.  
And so _red_.  
  
‘I don’t like this,’ Andrew said flatly.  
  
It was what Neil expected, but he still winced.  
  
Except Andrew growled again. ‘Not like that.’  
  
Like… what?  
Confused, Neil looked up at Andrew, who was staring at the wound on Neil's chest with bared teeth.  
  
‘I don’t like the smell,’ Andrew said.  
  
Neil hadn't smelled anything wrong with it. For all that it _was_ wrong. ‘I can’t change—’ he started, still confused, but Andrew interrupted him.  
  
‘I can.’  
  
His eyes flashed bronze as he said this.  
  
Neil wondered, briefly.  
Then he shrugged.  
  
It seemed to irritate Andrew. ‘ _Can_ I?’ he asked.  
  
‘Yeah,’ Neil replied tiredly.  
  
Taking two careful steps, Andrew closed the distance between them and reached out his hand.  
Neil saw that his nails were sharper and pointier than before, like when he’d scratched Neil’s skin.  
  
They looked like claws.  
  
But Andrew didn’t use his claws this time.  
  
He just pressed his hand over the wound.  
  
It stung.  
Neil hissed.  
  
Still Andrew kept it there—hand still at first, but then his fingers started slowly rubbing over Neil’s unmarked skin.  
  
They were warm.  
But not too warm.  
  
The skin surrounding the wound was sensitive,  
and Andrew’s careful touches edged on the thin line between pleasure and pain.  
  
Neil had never known that line was so thin.  
  
Goosebumps raised on his skin.  
  
Eventually, Andrew dropped his hand.  
  
Neil didn’t smell if anything was different,  
but Andrew probably did, because the flashing eyes became hazel once again.  
  
‘Never apologise for this,’ Andrew said.  
  
☽  
  
Night.  
The house was quiet except for the _cracks_  
burned into the logs in the fireplace  
so alike the cracks burned into Neil’s skin.  
  
He was sitting on his bed, looking down at the wound on his chest.  
  
The raised, swollen, and bumpy flesh.  
  
So red.  
  
It could’ve been described as angry red,  
except Neil didn’t feel angry when he watched it.  
  
Just afraid.  
  
☽  
  
Walking aimlessly through the village, Neil tried to breathe in the cold air  
but it was difficult when so many people were out and about.  
  
A hand suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side.  
  
Yanking his arm away, Neil was ready to run  
until he saw Allison glaring at him.  
  
‘What?’ he asked by way of greeting.  
  
‘ _Hello_ Neil,’ Allison said pointedly, crossing her arms. ‘How nice of you to visit me.’  
  
‘I’m here now.’  
  
Allison’s look told him that wasn’t good enough.  
  
_Not good enough_.  
  
Neil looked away.  
  
But Allison wasn’t giving up that easily. ‘Come on,’ she said, and dragged him to the Blacksmith’s house.   
  
Inside, the workshop was sweltering hot as always. Renee was bowed over a piece of metal, but it didn’t look like pure iron.  
  
‘What’s that for?’ Neil asked.  
  
Light hair plastered to her forehead, Renee looked pale and tired,  
but when she looked up at Neil, her eyes were _burning_.  
  
‘This kills _all_ monsters,’ she said.  
  
It sounded like a promise.  
  
Neil nodded once before following Allison into the main room, where she was already waiting for him, sitting at the head of the table.  
  
When Neil sat down too, she reached for the bowl of sweets and pushed it to Neil.  
  
‘Do you want some?  
  
‘No.’  
  
Allison smiled knowingly and grabbed a piece of candy, plopping it into her mouth with a grin. ‘These already gave you what you wanted… Didn’t they?’   
  
The answer was both yes and no.  
  
The answers, Neil didn’t have to trade for sweets anymore,  
but the warm touches.  
Neil didn’t want those to end.  
  
Resting her head on her hand, Allison watched Neil with a soft smile on her lips. ‘Do you have a question for me?’

It wasn’t a word Neil normally associated with her.  
Soft.  
  
‘The last body that was found,’ he started. ‘Her hand was cut off.’  
  
Allison blinked. Sat up a little straighter.   
  
‘ _Gods_ , Neil, I thought you were going to ask me how to have sex.’  
  
Neil blinked. ‘I— No.’  
  
‘I mean _obviously_ no. You just asked me about a corpse. That’s not sexy at all.’  
  
‘Why does everything have to be about sex?’  
  
Allison leaned forward, her thick, blonde hair falling over her shoulders, her red lips curving in a mischievous smile. ‘Why not?’  
  
‘Because there’s a monster in the woods killing people,’ Neil answered flatly.  
  
‘Yes okay, but don’t tell me you haven’t at least _considered_ having sex with him?’   
  
Allison stared at Neil,  
who stared in confusion back at her.  
  
Confused because no, he hadn’t,  
but also because yes,   
_now_ he was.  
  
Neil thought about warm touches all over his body,  
leaving him shivering from something other than cold or fear.  
  
He imagined himself gasping for air but only breathing in more of Andrew,  
sharing breaths and slick and sweat and—Hearing Andrew’s low voice,  
whispering in his ear,  
‘I have never seen that expression on your face before. I don’t know how to react to this, but I’m settling for pleased.’  
  
Neil blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, and remembered he was in Allison’s house.  
  
She was watching him with an amused expression, then pushed the bowl of sweets closer again. ‘Sure you don’t want them?’  
  
Neil’s face burned.  
  
☽  
  
Andrew stared at Neil.  
For longer than normal.  
  
Neil wondered if the sun’s light was making his hair the strange colour of fire again.   
He pulled on a strand of his hair.  
  
‘I—’ Andrew started, then stopped.  
  
Neil turned and watched him curiously,  
but Andrew was staring straight ahead.  
  
They were nearing the large, dark tree that usually signalled the end of their walk.  
The turning point.  
  
It was deep into the forest.  
Far away from the village.  
  
But Andrew didn’t say anything, and the silence followed them until they eventually reached the tree.  
  
Reaching out, Neil touched the cold, rough bark.  
He could feel Andrew’s eyes on him  
and wondered if they were flashing.  
  
‘I want to touch your neck,’ Andrew said through gritted teeth.  
  
Neil’s hand froze, not from the biting cold air but from the _thoughts_.   
He blamed Allison.  
  
Neil's breath clouded in front of him as he stared at the tree, stared at his hand, which was looking pale and bluish.   
  
‘What’s stopping you?’ he asked.  
  
‘Consent.’  
  
‘Okay,’ Neil answered quietly.  
  
He almost couldn’t hear the _crunching_ of leaves and snow behind him, so wildly was his heart beating inside his chest.  
  
Then Andrew’s warm fingers grazed over his neck  
and Neil jumped in surprise.  
  
The touch disappeared immediately.  
  
‘Sorry,’ Neil said. ‘Unexpected.’  
  
Silence.  
  
Taking a deep breath—  
  
‘I’m going to touch you now,’ Andrew said close behind him, his voice low.  
  
Neil's heart seemed to skip all of its beats.  
  
His body felt suddenly, quickly,  _very_ warm,  
as warm as Andrew’s touch,  
which burned as it followed the line of Neil’s neck.  
  
The thought that Andrew must feel his rapid pulse brought a flush to Neil's cheeks.  
He tried to take another deep breath, but Andrew’s fingers on his neck and skin made it impossible to think.  
  
So without thinking, Neil stretched his neck to the side to give Andrew more space.  
  
Andrew’s breathed in sharply.  
  
Then his whole hand slid over Neil’s neck,  
curling,  
holding it.  
  
Neil felt no fear.  
It was the strangest thing.  
  
He wondered.   
  
After a dozen breaths or more,  
Andrew released the hold on Neil's neck.  
  
Judging by the shuffling of leaves and twigs, he had also immediately moved back.  
  
Neil was staring wide-eyed at the tree, and his left hand was shaking.   
But not from fear   
or cold.   
It took him five tries before he’d evened out his breathing again.  
  
Finally—mind still in scrambles—Neil turned around.  
  
‘Smells better?’   
  
He heard his voice sounded rough, so he cleared it.  
The sound echoed through the woods.  
  
Andrew’s gaze was dark as he watched Neil swallow away the heat inside his body.  
  
‘Yes.’  
  
☽  
  
Walking back to the village, the night sky above him dark,  
it felt like Neil was dreaming.  
  
Luckily, his feet knew the way.  
  
But his mind didn’t,  
navigating between all these _thoughts._ Neil felt like he didn’t even know where the path was.  
  
One thing made a lot more sense now though.  
  
‘Wait,’ Allison had said before he'd left her house, moving in front of Neil and blocking the exit.  
  
He’d frowned down at her, but she had grinned back mischievously, before suddenly dragging a hand over Neil’s neck, her thumb pressing into his skin and rubbing up and down.  
  
Neil had stepped back in shock and confusion.  
  
Allison had merely laughed out loud. ‘You can thank me later.’  
  
☽  
  
Neil never got a chance to thank her later.  
  
Opening the bakery’s front door, Neil winced when the movement stretched his skin and tugged at the ruin on his chest.   
  
He ignored it and walked inside, the smell of bread _everywhere_. It was making him dizzy.  
  
‘Hello si—’  
  
Nicky stopped talking.  
Neil wondered why.   
Wondered how intensely the ovens must be burning at the back of the shop to make his vision fog up.  
  
Suddenly, the floor was coming closer.   
The wood was so dark.  
  
He heard a door creak somewhere, and Neil wondered vaguely what his father was going to do to him this time,  
wondered if it would burn.  
  
His hands and knees touched the hard floor.  
  
Blinking fast, Neil managed to erase some of the blur, and saw a pair of boots walking closer.  
  
Then, darkness.  
  
☽

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; All around him was dark wood, and the smell of smoke.
> 
> Oh, I just want to quickly defend Allison here.  
> I know the foxhole characters are all about being problematic sometimes (I mean which human isn't), but when she said 'you haven't at least CONSIDERED having sex with him?' she wasn't suggesting that it would be stupid if Neil didn't want to have sex, more like. Uh. She knows him, and saw his thirst hahah, and was surprised that Neil's mind hadn't connected the dots yet. I mean, Neil has never grown up with physical intimacy so of course his mind wouldn't but yeah. Sorry for this little tangent, I just wanted to add this hihi. 
> 
> ANYWAYS thank you for reading!!  
> Let me know what you thought, if you want to :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!!
> 
> Today was so warm, I could walk around in my yellow sweater without my jacket and not feel like I was being too optimistic hihi. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

For a brief moment, there was light again as Neil felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him onto his back.  
  
Neil wondered if this was a dream, but then the skin on his chest _burned_ and he screamed out in pain.  
  
He vaguely felt someone tugging at his shirt.  
Neil tried to push their hands away.  
  
‘Stop that,’ someone snapped in irritation.   
  
It made Neil want to open his eyes, so he did with great difficulty.  
  
He saw blonde hair, brown eyes, and a very serious face.  
So beautiful.  
  
‘Ugh,’ the other said. ‘Don’t call me that.’  
  
Oh, Neil thought, wondering what was real and what wasn’t.   
What was said and what was thought.  
  
All around him was dark wood  
and the smell of smoke.  
  
Neil tried to focus on the face above his, but it was like trying to run without legs.  
Near impossible.  
  
‘An...drew?’ he slurred.  
  
A sigh  
that sounded like the wind through the trees.  
  
‘Yeah, sure.’  
  
Suddenly, a higher sound, a voice, rattling out words like raindrops on a roof. ‘So can you do something?!’ the voice asked in a panic.  
  
It was like the world was spinning way too fast, changing from day to night and back again, the room turning light and dark.  
And Neil felt so tired.  
  
He would just close his eyes, just for a little while.  
  
☽  
  
Through the heat, the darkness, the chaos and the fear,  
Neil heard a long, piercing sound.  
  
Howling.  
  
☽  
  
When something touched his lips, Neil opened his eyes with a shock and lurched upright.  
Immediately, something hot and scalding trailed over his chest.  
Neil screamed.  
  
‘ _Fuck_!’ Allison cursed.  
  
Startled, Neil looked up at her but he only caught the last strands of her blonde hair as she quickly ran out of the room.  
  
He looked down at his chest.  
There were bandages all over skin, hiding the wreckage of his body.  
  
But the bandages were stained.  
First with something colourless, but now, slowly, _red_ was spreading.  
  
From the corner of his eye, Neil saw something move.  
It was a spoon, wobbling back and forth on the ground, and next to it was a bowl, filled with a few pieces of carrot and chicken.  
Soup.  
  
Allison came back, bursting through the door, a huge towel in her hands.  
  
‘Neil!’ she said, and rushed over to him, pressing the towel against his chest. ‘Why’d you suddenly sit up?!’  
  
‘I’m bleeding,’ Neil said, watching the washed out red transfer onto the towel. Ruining it.  
  
‘Yeah, and whose fault is that?’ Allison murmured, gently pressing the towel against the wet.   
  
‘Mine.’  
  
Allison’s dark blue eyes snapped up. ‘No, Neil,’ she said, voice low. ‘It’s not.’  
  
Neil couldn’t hold her gaze for long so he looked out the window next to the bed. He saw the woods.  
A spike of jealousy speared his heart.  
Allison lived so close to freedom.  
  
‘I’ll have to change these,’ Allison observed and put the towel down. She reached for a leather bag and rummaged through it.  
  
Her hands were soft as she unwrapped,  
and Neil hated feeling like this, _naked_ , so he just stared out the window while she put new bandages over what couldn’t be hidden anyway.  
  
Outside, the trees bent to the side when a sudden gust of wind pushed them.  
The windows rattled while the howling wind blew over the earth, until— Neil listened more closely.  
  
It wasn’t the wind.  
  
‘Every day,’ Allison commented. ‘You’d think I had to carry your bleeding, dying body into the forest.’  
  
‘What?’ Neil asked, eyes searching the woods.  
  
But Allison ignored his question and put away the bloodied bandages.  
  
When she returned, he asked a different question.  
  
‘What happened?’  
  
‘That,’ she said, pointing to his chest, ‘was infected. Was killing you, actually. You collapsed at Nicky’s, and as Aaron tried to patch you up, you confessed your love to him.’  
  
‘I didn’t—’  
  
‘Sure, you didn’t. Anyway, Aaron carried you to me when he found out what had made you collapse.’  
  
‘To you?’ Neil repeated in surprise. ‘Why?’  
  
‘Well,’ Allison said slowly, tapping a long nail to her red lips. ‘Because I can heal what normally can’t be healed.’  
  
Her words didn’t make sense.   
But Neil knew she was telling the truth.  
  
He tore his gaze away from the woods and looked at her. ‘You’re a witch.'  
  
‘And _you’re_ in love with the wolf,’ she grinned.  
  
Turning back to the window, looking out at the woods beyond, Neil put his hand against the glass.  
  
It was cold.  
  
The relief Neil felt was intense, and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cold glass.  
He shivered.  
  
He shivered, and he didn’t deny it.  
  
☽  
  
But not denying didn’t mean Neil understood what she’d said.  
  
What did it mean to be in love?  
  
Was that why he stared at the woods every day he was inside Allison’s house?  
His hand against the cold glass, leaning his head as close to the woods as he could without fogging up the glass.  
  
Was that why every evening, as the world turned a bright orange, a fiery red, Neil’s heart started pounding?  
Every inhale anticipation and nerves, every exhale _longing_.  
  
Was that why Neil wanted nothing more than to return to Allison’s house as he walked away from it?  
Feet crushing the leaves on the ground as he finally set foot in the forest after days of being inside.  
  
There was birdsong in the woods,  
and Neil searched for them in the trees.  
  
But the crisscross of bare branches against the red sky made Neil think of a fireplace, and he quickly looked down.  
  
Standing just a few steps away from him  
was Andrew.  
  
Their eyes met, and Neil was caught instantly. There was no need for silently stalking, for moving _so_ slowly as to not startle or scare off.  
  
When Andrew’s hazel eyes met his, Neil was caught.  
  
They stood like that for a long time.   
Just watching.  
  
‘I heard you calling me,’ Neil said eventually. Tentatively.  
  
Nothing changed in Andrew’s posture, nor in his expression.  
  
‘You’re back,’ Andrew said, but it sounded like a question.   
  
And there were all these ways to say it, to call it by its name, to howl it like Andrew had done for the past few days.  
  
_You’re the wolf_.  
  
Instead, Neil smiled hesitatingly, and said, ‘You’re young.’  
  
Back then, Andrew had replied _We’re the same age_.    
  
Now, Andrew pushed himself off the tree and walked towards Neil.  
  
‘You must really want to die.’  
  
‘I don’t.’  
  
Andrew’s eyes searched his for the lie.   
When he found none, he turned around, like nothing had happened, like they could just continue their strange habit of walking through the forest, asking each other without asking.  
  
Of course, Neil followed.  
  
And because he followed, he heard the words float away on the wind.  
  
‘Guess we have that in common.’  
  
Neil’s smile was wild  
and free.   
  
☽  
  
They neared the large tree, the turning point.  
  
It didn’t surprise Neil that Andrew continued walking without another word.  
  
As they walked, the forest grew denser and… warmer. If that was possible. It _seemed_ impossible, except Neil’s hands and feet started tingling as the frosty air disappeared, as it started warming him up.  
  
Eventually the snow was gone too, and bare branches suddenly had leaves and even small flowers on them. It was like the beginning of spring.  
  
Neil looked at the ground and saw that the leaves beneath his feet were green.  
  
When he looked up again, Andrew was watching him. Neil wanted to ask what all this was, where they were, when suddenly he noticed the little brick house behind Andrew.  
It seemed lived in, judging by the laundry hanging outside and the smoke rising out of the chimney.  
  
Neil was certain it was lived in when the door flew open and a woman walked towards them, exclaiming, ‘Andrew!’ with such relief that Neil wondered. ‘You were gone—’ She paused when she spotted Neil, then calmly moved closer. Her eyes looked friendly enough.  
‘You must be him,’ she said softly, then held out her hand. ‘My name’s Bee.’  
  
Neil shook her hand, introducing himself quietly.   
  
Bee turned her attention to Andrew then, looking him over like she was checking for wounds. When she found nothing, she smiled at them both. ‘I’m glad you accepted him.’  
  
Neil had no idea what she meant   
or to who she talking.  
  
They both followed her when she went back inside the house.  
  
Inside was. Different.  
  
Neil looked at the round table, the different sized chairs, the pots and pans hanging on the wall in the kitchen where something was boiling, something sweet-smelling.  
  
He looked at the dried herbs hanging on strings through the house. Looked at the pillows and blankets on the bed in the corner of the room.  
Nothing seemed to match, which made everything match.  
  
‘Do you want some hot chocolate?’ Bee asked.  
  
‘Chocolate?’ Neil asked in surprise. Chocolate wasn’t something you just had lying around in the house.  
  
Bee smiled at him. ‘That’s right. When I knew Andrew was coming home, I immediately whipped out the pan.’  
  
Neil looked at Andrew, who had sat down in one of the mismatched chairs.  
  
Home.  
  
Realization hit him like a slap in the face, and Neil knew exactly how those felt.  
Andrew had taken him to his _home_.  
  
‘Why?’ Neil asked, staring in confusion at Andrew.  
  
But it was Bee who answered him. ‘Because it’s always time for hot chocolate!’  
  
To Neil, it seemed like it was time for questions.  
  
☽  
  
After they’d drunk their hot chocolates with the comforting noise of Bee chatting about her week—which had consisted mostly of gathering herbs and trying out different sort of recipes—Andrew moved to his feet and silently walked out the door.  
  
Neil stood up too, but a hand on his arm made him pause.  
  
Bee looked up at him with a friendly smile. 'Words are difficult, aren’t they?’

Neil nodded, unsure of what she was getting at.  
  
‘Maybe, sometimes, we should just listen. I think that the words that aren’t said, are the most important of all.’ Bee winked at him.  
  
☽  
  
Outside, in this strange world where it was somehow spring, where it was warm, and _green_ , Neil found Andrew sitting on the ground, back against a tree.  
  
‘Is it like this everywhere?’ he asked.  
  
In response, Andrew moved to his feet and started for the forest behind Bee’s house.  
Andrew’s home.  
  
The needles of pinetrees pricked Neil’s skin as he pushed them aside to follow Andrew deeper into the woods.  
  
After what felt like a dozen or more feet, a dozen or more trees trying to keep Neil from walking further, they entered a field with tall grass and wild flowers.  
  
Neil watched everything sway in an invisible breeze.  
  
It seemed to affect Andrew too, who moved closer to Neil, his warm hand grazing Neil’s skin for a second before he walked further into the field.  
  
When he followed him, Neil’s feet seemed to walk on clouds.  
The ground was so soft.  
Neil held out his hand and trailed it over the grass. It tickled.  
  
Everyhing was so green.  
  
Neil thought he might be content to walk in this field forever.  
  
‘How is your chest?’ Andrew asked, when Neil finally stopped wandering, stopped in front of him.  
  
‘Light,’ Neil answered.   
  
His voice sounded light.  
His arms felt light, as light as breathing now was.  
The sensation wasn’t so bad.  
  
Andrew tilted his head and observed Neil, and because Andrew had shown him his home, had shown him this place,  
Neil offered a truth of his own.  
  
‘I feel safe.’  
  
‘Safe with the monster,’ Andrew said.  
  
Neil looked up and was caught by Andrew’s eyes. ‘You’re not.’  
  
It didn’t seem like Andrew believed him.  
  
Hands trailing over the green grass, Neil moved closer to Andrew.  
Still looking into his eyes.  
  
‘Why the touching?’   
  
Shifting his weight to his other leg, Andrew’s shoulders tensed for a second, and Neil realised with a start that he seemed almost awkward, or nervous.  
  
‘The smell,’ Andrew said finally.  
  
‘But I don’t smell—’  
  
‘You smelled like him. Like her.’  
  
Neil remembered Allison dragging her hands over his throat, grinning up at him like she was doing him favour.  
Then he remembered Andrew—  
Neil stopped himself before he remembered too vividly.  
  
‘Do I smell now?’ he asked instead.  
  
‘You stink.’  
  
To both of their surprise, Neil laughed out loud. ‘Thanks.' Then, before he could stop himself, he said, ‘You can do that again. If you want.’  
  
For everything that was light about this place, Andrew’s gaze was heavy.  
  
Neil shivered.  
  
‘I shouldn’t,’ Andrew said,  
but he was already reaching out.  
  
His hand settled on the curve of Neil’s neck.  
Warm.  
Steady.

Neil breathed in sharply, and he couldn’t look away from Andrew even if he wanted to.  
He didn’t want to.  
  
‘Why do you trust me?’ Neil asked breathlessly, while Andrew ran his hand up Neil’s neck, through his hair.   
  
Neil had to fight against the urge to close his eyes.  
  
Andrew's voice was low,  _heavy_ , when he answered. ‘Who says I do?’   
  
It made Neil shiver.  
It made him _think_.  
  
‘Why do you?’ Andrew asked, trailing his fingers over Neil’s temple and cheek, then under his chin, tilting it up.  
  
Neil closed his eyes.  
  
‘Because you look at me like you understand,’ Neil whispered. ‘Because you can keep up.’  
  
Andrew’s finger touched his lips.  
  
Neil stopped talking.  
  
_Because you think I am good enough_.

‘Stand still,’ Andrew whispered.  
  
Neil’s breath shuddered.  
But he kept his eyes closed, and whispered, ‘Okay.’  
  
Andrew’s touch vanished, and Neil missed it.  
Wished it back.  
Then the strangest thing happened.  
  
Andrew’s touch returned  
and Neil’s wish came true.  
  
Soft, warm lips pressed against the hollow of his throat.  
  
Neil didn’t breathe.  
  
For once there was no desperate inhale,  
no burning exhale.  
Because for once, Neil was already feeling _so_ free.  
  
When Andrew leaned back,  
Neil opened his eyes and saw the sky.  
  
☽  
  
Before he’d go back to his father, Neil had to do something else first.  
  
The little bell hanging by the door tingled as he entered the bakery.  
  
‘Neil! Uh, I mean, sir!’ Nicky exclaimed, moving from behind the counter. ‘Are you okay?’  
  
‘I’m walking,’ Neil said, then. ‘Is Aaron here?’  
  
Nicky grinned. ‘Are you gonna make good on your declaration of love?’  
  
‘What? No, I—’  
  
‘AARON!’ Nicky yelled, moving to the door leading back to their house. ‘NEIL’S HERE TO MARRY YOU.’  
  
Neil winced when he heard loud footsteps moving closer, and then the door flew open and Aaron was glaring at him.  
  
‘I don’t want to marry you,’ Neil said immediately.  
  
‘Good,’ Aaron said. ‘I’m not interested.’  
  
‘Aww,’ Nicky said.  
  
They both ignored him.  
  
‘I wanted to thank you for healing me,’ Neil said formally.  
  
Aaron watched him. Crossed his arms. ‘People don’t get burns like that and continue walking around town.’  
  
‘I’m not like most people,’ Neil said. ‘And I fell down, remember?’  
  
‘ _Yes,_ I remember. I remember Nicky screaming bloody murder. Thought I had to deal with another—’ Aaron stopped himself and looked away in anger.  
  
‘Thanks anyway,’ Neil said. ‘You didn’t have to do what you did.’  
  
‘It’s not for _you_ ,’ Aaron said suddenly. He glared at Neil. ‘But— You knew Andrew.’  
  
_Knew_.  
Neil swallowed away the truth.  
He felt uncomfortable.  
  
☽

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; 'But that was nothing compared to how he felt when he walked back to his father’s house that evening.'
> 
> I COULD'VE put the angst in this chapter. But I didn't. For once hihi. 
> 
> Also, I visited two bookstores today!!  
> Good things <3 Though I had the hardest time deciding which books to buy, hihi.  
> Hope you had a nice day too!  
> Let me know what you thought, if you want :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> Okay, wow. This chapter is over 4000 words!  
> As a warning, this contains a real roller coaster of emotions so I'm sorry in advance!
> 
> Also, marichatshipper, I hope everything went well and that this cheers you up <3
> 
> Enjoy!

But that was nothing compared to how he felt when he walked back to his father’s house that evening.  
  
As soon as he walked into the house, it was like a blanket wrapped around his head, preventing him from breathing.  
Neil saw that the fire in the hearth was blazing.  
  
‘ _Hello Neil_ ,’ Lola purred.  
  
His reaction was intense and _physical_ , flinching back, and he immediately reached for the door behind him, but Lola was faster.  
Before Neil could so much as blink, she’d grabbed his shirt and dragged him deeper into the house.  
  
‘Let go,’ Neil said through gritted teeth, struggling against her grip. It was impossible. Her hands were like shackles holding him in place. ‘Where’s my father?’   
  
‘He’ll be here soon,’ Lola said, pushing him down on a chair. ‘Unfortunately.’  
  
‘Don’t you have a house?' Neil spat. 'What are you doing here all the time?’   
  
Lola pouted like he was being mean to her. ‘I wanted to check how you were doing. I was just _so_ concerned when I heard what had happened. You really shouldn’t go into the woods, Neil.’  
  
Neil glared at her. ‘I never go into the woods.’  
  
Giggling, Lola ran her hands over his chest.   
Neil winced when they ran over the newly healed wound.  
  
‘You’re lying to me,’ Lola said with a sick smile. ‘ _You_ …’ She trailed a finger over his chest. ‘Are a liar, Neil.’  
  
Then her hands tugged roughly at his shirt, pushing it up to his stomach before Neil managed to push her hands away.  
  
‘ _Stop!_ ’  
  
But Lola merely laughed.  
Continued pulling his shirt up.   
To Neil’s horror, she was stronger than him, and he felt the fabric stretch between their hands.  
  
‘Such a liar. You don’t want me to stop at all,’ Lola murmured.  
  
Panicking now, Neil brought up his legs and kicked her in the stomach. Lola doubled over, a strangled sound escaping her lips, and.  
She let go of his shirt.  
  
Neil quickly sprang to his feet and backed away. ‘You’re delusional,’ he spat.  
  
His words didn’t erase the scary smile on Lola’s face as she straightened herself.  
She took a slow step towards Neil again.  
  
The room was too hot, too stuffy, but the sweat on Neil’s forehead was not from the fire in the room.  
He knew he needed to run or fight her off.  
But would he even— The front door opened, the sound startling both Neil and Lola, and then his father walked in.  
  
A gust of cold, cold wind blew through the house before the door shut again.  
  
As Neil took in a large gulp of cold air, Nathan turned his icy stare to Lola.  
  
‘ _Get out_.’  
  
To Neil’s surprise, Lola immediately did.  
  
Wiping his hand over his sweaty forehead, Neil awkwardly tugged on his shirt in an attempt to look put together.  
  
His father watched him.  
  
‘Why is she always here?’ Neil asked, not quite succeeding in keeping the irritation from his voice.  
  
His father laughed. ‘Why aren’t _you?_ ’   
  
‘I’ve been ill,’ Neil started, but his father held up a hand and said, ‘I know. You’ve been with the blacksmith’s daughter.’  
  
Neil nodded.  
  
‘Did you share her bed?’   
  
‘No,’ Neil said immediately. The idea wasn’t attractive to him in any way.   
  
‘Good. You managed not to disappoint me for once.’  
  
Neil wanted to ask _why_  this was good. The question burned on his tongue, burned restlessly as he remembered Aaron’s comment.  
  
But his hands also burned,  
because Neil remembered what asking questions cost him.  
  
So without another sound, Neil dropped his gaze to the floor and nodded.  
  
☽  
  
‘I don’t have long today,’ Neil said.  
  
Andrew accepted this silently, and they continued on their normal walk through the woods, to the large tree that would be their turning point once more.  
  
Neil didn’t really like that tree.  
  
The sky was a nondescript grey today, the drab colour stretching out as far as Neil could see. He breathed out slowly, then asked the question he’d been dreading to ask.  
  
‘I heard you’re dead.’  
  
Andrew abruptly stopped walking. His shoulders tensed and his hands balled into fists.  
Anger.  
  
Neil dropped his gaze slightly, focussing on a tree just behind Andrew’s left shoulder instead.  
  
‘Sorry,’ he said quietly.  
  
Andrew turned around. ‘Neil.’  
  
It was madness to look someone in the eye when they were angry.  
But Andrew didn’t sound angry anymore. He still looked tense however. Not like he wanted to tear something to pieces, but more like the tension Neil felt when he looked into the fire.  
  
‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ Andrew said.  
  
Neil looked up and Andrew met his gaze calmly.  
  
It was still hard to believe him.  
  
‘You can’t promise that.’  
  
Andrew was silent for a few moments. ‘You’re right.’  
  
A twig snapped somewhere to the left, and Neil flinched.  
  
When he looked back at Andrew, he saw him take a deep, calming breath.  
  
‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ Andrew said.  
  
As Neil stared into Andrew’s eyes, which were often calm, even careful, he wondered if that could be true.  
His left hand twitched.  
His father never wanted to hurt him either. Or so he’d said.  
  
_This is because you’re too stupid. I don’t want to do this Neil, but you have to learn.  
  
_ Neil swallowed away the burning in his throat.   
  
‘Why haven’t you talked to them?’  
  
‘Why are you changing the subject?’ Andrew asked in return.  
  
Because it was too difficult—  
Oh.  
  
☽  
  
It was Andrew’s secret to tell, Neil knew this, but still he walked towards the bakery.  
  
The little bell rang through the small shop when Neil opened the door, and Nicky’s voice called out enthusiastically, ‘Good morning si—’  
  
‘What happened to Andrew?’ Neil interrupted him. Better to get this over with.  
  
The smile on Nicky’s face froze.  
  
The shop was silent, and though Nicky was staring at Neil, his eyes weren’t really looking at him. They were far away, seeing memories.  
  
Then Nicky blinked, returning to the here and now. There was a harshness to his voice when he said, ‘He’s dead.’  
  
‘I know,’ Neil lied, ‘I wanted to kno—’  
  
‘Murdered by your father.'  
  
Neil's mind blanked. ‘What?’  
  
‘Are you going to buy anything?’ Nicky asked, looking down at the counter and avoiding Neil’s gaze. He added quietly, ‘I’m not judging you. It’s just difficult to talk about.’  
  
This Neil could understand,  
if his father had actually murdered Andrew.  
But he hadn’t.  
  
_What had happened?_  
  
The door to Neil’s right shut with a bang, and suddenly Aaron was all up in his face, glaring at him.  
  
‘What are you doing here again?’  
  
Neil tried the truth. ‘I was asking about Andrew.’  
  
‘Why? He’s dead.’  
  
The words sounded harsher coming out of Aaron’s mouth.  
Neil actually winced.  
  
‘How did he die?’   
  
Glaring, Aaron put a hand on Neil’s chest and shoved him back. ‘Because of _your_ fucking father! Now go away.’  
  
‘I just want to—’  
  
‘Just want to what? Hurt us by bringing it up?’  
  
Neil closed his mouth. Looked at them both.  
Aaron’s face was livid with anger, the hurt stretched out in the open for everyone to see. And though Nicky was staring at the ground, his mouth was a tense, tense line, trying to keep himself from reacting.  
  
If only Neil knew how to talk about these kinds of topics.  
  
_Too stupid.  
_  
‘Sorry,’ he said, because he wasn’t his father. ‘I’ll go.’  
  
☽  
  
The fire in the house was burning hotly, the angry, red flames flickering.   
Neil quickly looked away from the fire and continued eating, his knife scraping across the metal plate.  
  
‘It’s been a while,’ his father said. ‘Us eating dinner together.’  
  
Neil nodded, quickly stuffing his mouth full with meat.  
  
Ever since Nicky’s words, he'd avoided talking to his father. Even more than usual.  
  
There was a harsh _clink_ as his father put down his knife and fork. ‘I want to talk about your future, Nathaniel. I’ve been planning it for some time now.’ His father linked his hands and stared Neil down. Neil dropped his gaze. ‘You’re nearly the eligible age for marriage.’  
  
‘I don’t want to marry,’ Neil said immediately.  
  
‘That’s not up to you to decide.’  
  
‘Can’t I—’  
  
‘ _Shut up!_ ’ his father boomed, slamming his hands on the table. Neil flinched back. ‘You can’t do _anything_. As the leader of this village, it’s my duty to assure you’re going to be well-off. And that hopefully, you'll produce offspring that’s stronger than you at least.'  
  
Balling his hands into fists to stop them from trembling, Neil nodded silently.  
  
‘Good,’ his father said calmly, and picked up his knife and fork again. ‘Glad we had this talk.’  
  
Neil stared down at his plate.  
He felt nauseous.  
  
☽  
  
Taking large, gulping breaths, Neil quickly walked towards the woods, cloak flashing brightly against the dark houses.   
  
But he didn’t care who saw.  
He felt trapped.  
It felt like his father was deciding when he got to breathe, _if_ he got to breathe at all, and it caused his heart to beat too fast.  
  
Suddenly a hand grabbed his cloak, and because Neil was walking so fast, the clasp pulled at his throat, cutting off his air, and Neil nearly fell backwards as he struggled to breathe, hands flying to his throat.  
  
‘Gods, calm down. _Neil_ , calm down!’ Allison exclaimed.  
  
Neil quickly turned around.  
  
Allison was staring wide-eyed at him, hands still holding the end of his cloak.  
  
A twig snapped behind them in the forest, a loud _crack_ that made some birds fly off, and the leaves on the ground were rustling nervously.  
  
‘What?’ Neil asked, heart still beating inside his throat.  
  
Allison dropped his cloak, the heavy fabric falling to the ground. ‘You remember that favour?’  
  
Neil nodded.  
  
‘In two days time,’ Allison said. ‘Come to the woods.’  
  
‘Why the woods?’   
  
Her dark eyes glinted, like she was enjoying a secret joke Neil had no idea about.  
She grinned.  
  
‘I could ask you the same.’  
  
☽  
  
He watched Allison walk back and then disappear into the darkness.  
  
Neil took a careful step backwards,  
and another  
and bumped against something solid and warm.  
  
For the second time in just a few minutes, Neil’s heart froze before pounding like crazy. He quickly spun around, his cloak flashing as it whipped around him.  
  
‘Andrew?’  
  
_Why was he here?_  Neil looked down just to be sure, but Andrew’s feet were really standing on the muddy ground.  
He really was in the village.  
  
‘Why?’ Neil asked, looking up again.  
  
Andrew’s eyes were unreadable.  
  
Behind him, the sun was setting, causing flames to burn all around them.  
  
Neil felt his breath stutter,  
felt like he couldn’t look away from Andrew even if he wanted to.  
He didn’t want to.  
  
‘Take me home,’ Neil breathed.  
  
Andrew’s eyes flashed,  
and his voice was so low as he asked, 'Can I touch you?’  
  
_Always_ , said Neil’s mind.  
  
‘Yes,’ said Neil’s voice.  
  
Holding his gaze, Andrew reached out and lightly traced Neil’s wrist with the tips of his fingers.  
  
Neil’s heart stuttered at the contact.   
  
Andrew’s fingers paused over his pulse.  
  
His eyes flashed bronze for a second  
and Neil wondered.  
  
But then Andrew touched the sensitive skin of Neil’s palm,  
fingers so warm against his skin,  
and Neil had to bite back a gasp.  
  
He hadn’t known a touch  
could make his heart go wild,  
his breath quicken  
and his body feel warm.  
In the best way.  
  
It was hard to hold Andrew’s gaze, which seemed to be burning into Neil.  
It felt like too much and not enough.  
  
Andrew lightly followed the length of Neil’s finger with his own, and Neil tried to control his breathing, but the touch felt... It felt... 

Neil's breath stuttered when Andrew linked their fingers and grasped his hand. Andrew tugged lighlty on their joined hands, pulling Neil forward while he was walking backwards—all the while holding Neil's gaze.  
  
Breathing out warmth,  
Neil followed him into the woods.  
  
☽  
  
This time, they walked past Bee’s house without stopping.  
  
Though Neil wondered for a second if they should, he didn’t want to let go of Andrew’s hand,  
so he followed him through the pine trees into spring.  
  
The tall, green grass was swaying calmly in the wind, which also picked up the ends of his cloak, lifting it like Neil’s concerns were, just for a while.  
  
Neil trailed his fingers over the ticklish grass, and thought it the second best thing his hands had ever felt.  
  
When Andrew pulled him down into the grass, Neil followed without hesitation.  
  
Lying side by side, Neil gazed up at the soft blue sky for a moment before dismissing the view  
and turning his head to look at Andrew.  
  
Andrew turned his head too.  
Looked at him.  
  
And, without any other reason than the weird, weightless feeling inside his stomach,  
Neil smiled.  
  
Andrew’s eyes widened slightly,  
and his grip on Neil’s hand tightened.  
  
‘Can—’ Andrew cleared his throat. ‘Can I touch you again?’  
  
Neil’s breath left him in a rush.  
  
‘Yes.’  
  
He was too afraid to voice all of his thoughts,  
but with every breath he took, he was whispering that he’d never felt like this before.  
  
A gentle breeze brushed over the field,  
playing with the little strands of hair falling over Andrew’s forehead.  
  
Neil wanted to touch, but he remained still, waiting for Andrew to stop staring at him.  
  
He didn’t.  
But he let go of Neil’s hands so he could undo the buttons on Neil’s sleeve and push it up, baring his forearm.  
  
With just as careful a touch as before, Andrew followed the small, blue veins over Neil’s arm.   
  
Goosebumps raised over Neil’s skin.  
He shivered.  
  
‘Okay?’ Andrew asked, voice low.  
  
‘More than.' Neil sounded out of breath.  
  
‘More?’  
  
Neil swallowed.  
He was unsure if he would be able to get the words out with Andrew’s fingers still trailing over his skin,  
making it so hard to concentrate.  
  
So he nodded.  
  
Andrew took hold of the edge of his shirt.  
  
There was a flash, white hot and scary, of Lola’s hands on his skin.  
Neil shook his head to erase it, but Andrew had already noticed.  
  
Andrew let go of his shirt.  
Just like that.  
  
‘No, you can,’ Neil said.  
  
‘You tensed up.’  
  
‘It’s— You don't know her, but—’ Neil tried to explain, but immediately Andrew’s eyes flashed and he sat up. Let go of Neil.  
  
The wind was too soft to break the sudden tension.  
A second or two passed without a word.  
  
‘Andrew?’   
  
It almost looked like Andrew flinched.  
Then, with rough movements, he started moving to his feet.  
  
Neil shot up and before he knew what he was doing, reached out and grasped Andrew’s wrist.  
  
‘ _Stay,’_ he said quickly.  
  
Andrew tugged his wrist away with a jerk.  
  
‘Don’t.’  
  
So Neil let go.  
Just like that.  
  
Because Andrew said so, and because it had been stupid to want this anyway.  
  
He would never be good enough.   
His father had warned him.  
Again and again and again.  
  
What had he been thinking anyway, running towards the woods like he’d find a better future there than the one his father had arranged?  
  
‘I’ll go,’ Neil said, moving to his feet.   
  
As he walked away, his cloak felt heavy, dragging behind him.  
  
The red looked like a trail of blood dripping through the green grass.  
  
☽  
  
When Lola came, Neil didn’t even blink.  
He wasn’t even surprised.  
  
‘How nice,’ she breathed hotly in Neil’s ear. ‘We finally get some time alone.’  
  
Neil didn’t say anything.   
He just swallowed away the bile rising in the back of his throat.  
  
‘Though you’re still too young,’ Lola continued, moving her hands over Neil’s shirt, tugging at it. ‘I can have a little sneak peek, can’t I?’  
  
A burning smell filled Neil’s nose, and he looked down to see that the edges of his shirt were brown. Burned.  
  
Suddenly Lola pushed him down on the hard, wooden floor and sat on top of him, tearing away his shirt like he was a piece of meat and she had been hungry for weeks.  
  
‘A little sneak peek to keep me going until the wedding,’ Lola grinned.  
  
Her hands were uncomfortably hot as they ran over Neil’s skin.   
As she dragged her nails over his chest.  
  
Neil focused on a dark spot on the ceiling, staring at it while Lola leaned closer, while she pushed her sweaty body against his, suffocating him with her warmth.  
  
‘This has healed nicely,’ Lola said suddenly, poking at the tender flesh of the wound on his chest. ‘Still looks ugly though.’ She giggled, before leaning in and dragging her tongue over the wrecked flesh.  
  
Neil clenched his teeth and stared at the ceiling.  
  
For a second, the dark wood reminded him of the forest.  
For a second, he wasn’t here,   
wasn’t feeling this.  
  
But then he told himself there was no future for him in the woods.  
  
Giggling, Lola sat up and rubbed the too-sensitive skin on his chest.  
Neil flinched.  
  
‘This feels weirdly nice,’ she purred. ‘I might give you some more, make your skin all twisted. Maybe as a wedding present?’  
  
Even though Neil had told himself he wouldn’t react, that he would bear this silently,   
as soon as Lola stood up and walked towards the fire, a violent scream sounded inside his mind, telling him to _get up_.  
  
And Neil did.  
  
There was no way he was going to live with this.  
  
Because ultimately, that was what he wanted.  
To live.  
  
He might be too stupid and definitely not good enough for a bright future,  
but he still wanted one.  
And that future sure as fuck wasn’t this one.  
  
Neil quickly moved to his feet.  
  
‘No,’ he said to his father’s future.  
  
☽  
  
The next day, Neil limped towards the woods.  
  
It was before sunset, before the bright, bold colours, and everything looked washed out and pale.  
  
Allison’s face when she saw him  
told Neil he probably looked the same.  
  
Even Renee’s face was grim, and she was always unrealistically positive.  
  
‘What’s she doing here?’ Neil asked.  
  
For a moment, Allison clenched her teeth, and Neil was afraid she was going to ask, but then she flicked her hair over her shoulder and replied, ‘We’re going to get laid.’  
  
‘There’s boys in the forest?’ Neil asked skeptically.  
  
Allison lifted an eyebrow. ‘You tell me.'  
  
They stared at each other for a few seconds until Renee cleared her throat. ‘We need you to keep watch, if you want.’  
  
‘I don’t have a choice,’ Neil said.  
  
Renee shook her head. ‘We won’t force you.’  
  
‘He did promise though,’ Allison said, but when Renee slapped her arm, she shrugged at Neil.  
  
But Allison was right, and Neil hated owning anyone.  
  
‘I’ll keep watch,’ he promised. ‘Against what?’  
  
‘The monster in the woods maybe?’ Allison grinned. ‘No, stupid. Your father’s people. We don’t want them to know where we’re going.’  
  
‘Sure,’ Neil said. ‘I’ll just scream really loudly when they arrive.’  
  
Allison rolled her eyes. ‘How about you howl?’  
  
Neil narrowed his eyes.   
She winked in response.  
  
‘Thank you, Neil,’ Renee interrupted their silent exchange. ‘We really appreciate it.’  
  
Then they walked into the woods. Neil tiredly sat down on the cold ground, his feet on the muddy, frozen earth and his back against a tree.  
  
☽  
  
A huff.  
A loud exhale.  
  
_Crunch_ said the leaves behind Neil.  
  
He looked briefly over his shoulder, but of course he couldn’t see him.  
  
Neil leaned his head back against the tree. ‘I don’t want to stay away,’ he told the forest.  
  
There was no response.   
  
‘Whatever future there is for me,’ Neil said, ‘I don’t want it to be what my father chooses. I don’t want it to be with her.’  
  
The leaves behind him rustled, and he could vaguely hear heavy paws walk over the forest ground.  
  
Neil closed his eyes. ‘I want a future for me,’ he confessed.  
  
There was a howl behind him, close enough that Neil startled slightly.   
  
Then the howl turned into a growl  
which turned into gasping, struggling breaths.  
  
Without thinking, Neil turned around.  
  
The first rays of orange sunlight streamed through the trees,   
illuminating Andrew on his hands and knees,  
taking in large, quick breaths.  
  
The ground under his hands had been turned over by large claws.  
  
Neil stared.  
  
And then Andrew looked up, his eyes still shining bronze as they locked onto Neil.  
  
‘Ask me,’ Andrew growled, more wolf than human.  
  
Neil thought back to the meadow, to Andrew tugging his wrist free.  
His heart fluttered inside his chest,   
even though he should know better.  
  
‘Stay?’ Neil asked.  
  
‘Until you tell me to go,’ was the answer.  
  
☽  
  
They watched the sun drop lower,  
watched the soft orange change to bright red and then back to a softer, darker orange that made the normally grey forest appear warm brown.  
Like autumn.  
  
It was perhaps the softness of the colours,  
the quiet of the forest,  
and the warmth of Andrew beside him  
that made Neil close his eyes.  
  
He realized he’d been breathing without difficulty for some time now.  
  
‘You stink of her,’ Andrew suddenly said.  
  
Neil’s breath caught in his throat and he opened his eyes in surprise.  
Then he remembered,  
remembered so _vividly_ ,  
her hands over his chest, her tongue—  
  
Beside him, Andrew growled in anger, and Neil unwillingly flinched back.   
  
‘Lola,’ Andrew said lowly. ‘What did she do?’  
  
‘How did you—’  
  
‘What did she do?’  
  
Neil dropped his gaze to his hands. Opened his right hand, the one Andrew had touched so carefully that Neil had forgotten what it was like to be afraid.   
  
‘I don’t want to remember,’ Neil said, and he held out his hand, his voice now a mere whisper. ‘Make me forget.’  
  
Andrew looked at his outstretched hand, then closed his eyes briefly.  
  
‘No.’  
  
It felt like being slapped across the face. Neil was startled by how much one word could hurt.   
He started leaning back, but Andrew growled in warning.  
  
‘Don’t use me to forget.’  
  
Suddenly, the rudeness of his question was startlingly clear.  
Neil dropped his hand on the ground and felt the cold. The scratching twigs.  
  
‘I won’t,’ he said.  
  
Andrew took a deep breath, trying to calm himself most likely.  
  
‘You know Lola?’ Neil asked.  
  
Andrew’s hands immediately balled into fists.  
His gaze was far away as he replied.  
  
‘The same as you.’  
  
It took Neil a few seconds.  
A few blissfully ignorant seconds.  
  
Then,  
an unknown feeling,  
an all encompassing feeling that _burned_.  
Anger.  
  
Neil had never understood how his father could calmly pick up a piece of a white hot metal and press it against his back, repeatedly,  
until now.  
He would _laugh_  as he burned away Lola’s disgusting flesh.

‘I’ll kill her,’ Neil hissed.  
  
‘I thought you didn’t want to die,’ Andrew replied flatly.  
  
‘I don’t. Just _her_.’  
  
Andrew watched him for a few moments, then averted his gaze.  
  
Neil’s entire body was thrumming with anger.  
  
‘I must _reek_ , don’t I?’  
  
‘Yes.’  
  
‘Take it away,’ Neil said immediately, reaching for the edge of his shirt. ‘Please take her touch away.’  
  
‘I can only take her scent away.'  
  
That was fine too.  
Without thinking about the cold or the fact that they were sitting near the edge of the village, Neil lifted his shirt.  
  
He saw Andrew fight against the urge to look,  
and win.  
  
Brown eyes looked steadily into Neil’s  
as Andrew pressed his hand against his stomach.  
  
The feeling was overwhelming and warm and Neil shivered, his eyes fluttering close.  
  
Slowly, Andrew’s hand made its way up to the wound on his chest.   
  
Neil tried to breathe properly,  
but it kept coming out in strange, stuttering gasps.  
  
He’d thought Andrew’s fingers on his wrist were too much,  
but it was nothing compared to Andrew’s hand on his body.  
  
Neil bit his lip, trying to breathe normally.  
  
He wasn’t the only one.  
  
Beside him, Andrew was breathing louder than before.  
  
And then Allison’s voice echoed loudly through the woods. ‘I hope we’re not interrupting anything?’  
  
Neil opened his eyes with a shock. Met Andrew’s gaze. His stomach wobbled when he noticed how close they were sitting now.   
  
Neil reluctantly faced Allison and Renee. ‘What?’  
  
‘Nothing, nothing.’ Allison held up her hands with a grin. ‘Please continue marking each other.’  
  
‘Marking?’ Neil asked, at the same time that Andrew withdrew his hand and shifted away from Neil.  
  
‘ _Really?_ ’ Allison asked in surprise. ‘But I told you—’  
  
‘Thanks for keeping watch, Neil, Andrew,’ Renee said quietly.  
  
Neil noticed Renee’s hair was wilder than usual.   
He observed them both a little better.  
  
‘There’s a leaf in your hair,’ he pointed out to Allison, but she merely grinned in satisfaction and shot back, ‘There’s wolf all over you.’  
  
That wasn’t even true.  
Neil rolled his eyes and moved to his feet.  
Beside him, Andrew did the same, only without the slight wince as Neil accidentally put weight on his left leg.  
  
‘Anyways,’ Allison drawled, slinging her arm over Renee’s shoulder. ‘Don’t let us interrupt. We’re going.’  
  
Renee smiled at them before she was whisked away by Allison. Their hushed chatting grew fainter and fainter  
until it was quiet once more.  
  
When Neil turned back to Andrew, he saw he was standing further away than before.  
But that wasn’t what Neil wanted to comment on.  
  
‘What did they mean with marking?’  
  
‘Wolves mark their territory,’ Andrew replied.  
  
‘Territory?’ Neil repeated, confused for perhaps a breath or two before— ‘You’re saying I’m yours?’   
  
‘I’m not saying anything.’  
  
Neil fought back a smile, and took a step closer.   
  
‘Can I do it too?’  
  
He knew what it meant when he asked,  
and he knew what it meant when Andrew tilted his neck back slightly  
  
But he also knew _more_ now, so he asked, ‘Is that a yes?’  
  
‘Yes,’ Andrew replied.  
  
Neil closed the distance  
and lightly brushed his hand over Andrew’s neck.  
  
Territory,  
or what was his.  
  
Neil knew it didn’t mean he owned, or was owned in the literal sense.  
  
But against his better judgement, he hoped it meant he might have  
someone  
to call his friend.  
  
☽

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; ‘Andrew doesn’t exist anymore.’
> 
> Talk about a weird preview sentence, right? Hihi.
> 
> ANYWAYS yeah so, phew, things sure happened here.  
> Let me know what you thought if you want!
> 
> (also I'm sorry if this chapter had too many events or different vibes or something? I just couldn't find an ending that I was satisfied with or something. It all felt a little too shitty or too incomplete)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> Sorry for the longer wait. Had to catch up on my writing a little. But it's all good again!  
> (also, I might've spent my precious writing time binge-reading the second book in the Shatter Me trilogy)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

‘Neil, uh, sir?’   
  
Neil looked at his father, who was still standing on the stage and talking to some of the elders. He looked engrossed in the conversation, so Neil turned back to Nicky.  
  
‘Stop with the sir.'  
  
Nicky’s eyes flickered behind him, his fear evident.  
  
Neil wondered if he was the same.  
If his eyes mirrored Nicky’s.  
  
‘I’d rather call you sir when your father’s around,’ Nicky said. ‘But I’ll call you Neil at the bakery… If you still want to come back, that is. I mean, we were pretty rude.’  
  
‘I was insensitive.’  
  
Nicky shrugged. ‘Yeah, but still. You knew A—’ Nicky paused, then lowered his voice. Neil had to lean in to hear him. ‘You knew _Andrew_ , so we should exchange stories instead of slamming the door in your face, right?’  
  
Discomfort pricked Neil’s skin,  
but still he nodded.  
  
Nicky smiled. ‘So please visit again! I’ll try to convince Aaron not to bite your head off.’  
  
‘Okay,’ Neil agreed reluctantly.  
  
☽  
  
There was not even a breeze to carry Neil’s words.  
  
‘Nicky wants to talk about you.’  
  
The tall grass beside him rustled and swayed as Andrew sat up.  
A few stalks broke underneath his hands.  
  
Neil picked them up, let them brush against his fingers as he turned them over and over in his hands.  
  
‘What am I supposed to say?’ Neil asked.  
  
‘Andrew doesn’t exist anymore.’  
  
Neil looked up, looked at the bright blonde against the startling blue sky,   
and wondered how anything could be more real than this.  
  
‘What do you mean? You’re here.’  
  
Andrew was silent for a while.  
And another while.  
  
Eventually, when the silence seemed to drag, getting heavier with every heartbeat, Neil picked up another broken stalk  
and  
dragged it across Andrew’s neck.  
  
Andrew startled.  
Snapped his head to Neil.  
  
‘You’re here,’ Neil repeated.  
  
‘I’m not the same.’  
  
‘That doesn’t have to be a bad thing.’  
  
Andrew watched him for a few moments.  
  
Neil felt his gaze on him like a soft spring breeze,  
barely noticeable  
but warm.  
  
Finally, Andrew said, ‘Maybe I’m the bad thing.’  
  
‘And who says it’s not me?’   
  
Andrew picked up one of the wildflowers that had broken when he’d sat up.  
  
After turning it around in his hand a few times, he finally looked up  
and brushed the pale, white flowers against Neil’s lips.  
  
Though Neil didn’t say it out loud,   
he knew that whoever of them was bad,  
_this_ couldn’t ever be.  
  
☽  
  
A sweet smell drifted through the bakery like clouds,  
and it reminded Neil briefly of the spring meadow.  
  
Aaron’s glare did _not_ remind him of the spring meadow.  
  
‘Let’s move to the back,’ Nicky said, holding the door open for Neil.   
  
He entered a small room with a table and three chairs. A large and a small bed were pushed in a corner of the room, hidden mostly by a large piece of pale blue fabric.  
  
Nicky saw Neil watching and said, ‘Andrew picked that one.’  
  
Neil shifted awkwardly on the spot.  
  
‘You can sit here,’ Nicky said and pulled back a chair, but before Neil could, Aaron quickly took the seat and pointed to another.  
  
‘You can sit there,’ he said angrily.  
  
Neil did.  
  
Nicky sat down opposite him.  
  
There was a painful silence that Neil wanted to get rid off as soon as possible.   
  
‘This smell reminds me of Andrew,’ he said.  
  
‘Yeah,’ Nicky smiled. ‘He always loved sweets.’  
  
Still did.  
  
Neil shifted uncomfortably.  
He was trying, but this felt too weird. It most definitely wasn’t his place to talk about Andrew with his grieving fa—  
  
‘He was useless in the kitchen,’ Aaron said, still sounding angry. ‘Ate all the dough before we could bake. I don’t know how he didn’t get sick all the time.’  
  
‘You used to get so angry at him,’ Nicky laughed. ‘Shouting at him to go away if he wasn’t going to help anyway.’  
  
‘Did Andrew get angry?’ Neil asked.  
  
‘Not a lot,’ Nicky said. ‘Nothing could really get through him.’  
  
Because something already had.  
  
Neil dropped his gaze, watched the lines in the wood.  
His hands balled into fists underneath the table.  
  
‘How did you meet Andrew?’ Nicky asked, making Neil look up.  
  
‘We met in the woods.’  
  
Aaron tensed. ‘We told him to stay away from there.'  
  
‘He went there on his own?’ Neil asked.  
  
Aaron stared at him like he was stupid. ‘Of course. You met him there, didn’t you?’  
  
Of course.  
Neil nodded and looked away.  
  
Nicky was looking at him with a thoughtful expression on his face. ‘Were you and Andrew… friends?’   
  
Neil thought about Andrew’s hands on his stomach,  
warm lips on his throat,  
dragging his own hands over Andrew’s neck.  
  
‘I think so,’ he said.  
  
Nicky was still watching him thoughtfully though.  
  
‘Was there more?’ Nicky asked slowly.  
  
_More?_

 _More than.  
  
_ Beside Neil, Aaron scowled. ‘Fuck, Nicky, I don’t need to know that.’  
  
‘If you’re referring to a relationship, then I don’t know,’ Neil answered honestly. ‘Since verbal consent is important to Andrew and there hasn’t been one, I’d say no.’  
  
‘Was,’ Aaron said.  
  
Neil forced himself to keep from reacting like he messed up bigger than someone who had trouble coming to terms with a friend’s death.  
  
‘Sorry,’ he said in a steady voice, but Nicky immediately waved his apology away.  
  
‘We did the same thing a year ago.’  
  
A year.  
The words echoed through Neil’s mind.  
  
‘Why don’t you leave?’ Neil asked suddenly. ‘Why do you stay here?’  
  
‘I know _you’re_ rich and shit, but other people aren’t,’ Aaron said. ‘Believe me, if we could we would.’  
  
‘Really?’ Nicky asked. He sounded a little sad. ‘And leave behind this house? It has memories of—’  
  
‘I don’t need memories,’ Aaron interrupted him. ‘I need Andrew. Needed. Fuck.’   
  
Aaron rubbed his eyes angrily,  
and everyone pretended not to see the tears.  
  
☽  
  
‘How’s your leg?’ Andrew asked, when Neil sat down on the grass with a relieved sigh.   
  
Neil had tried to hide what had happened.   
So much for that.  
  
‘Better than your brother,’ Neil answered.  
  
Andrew’s whole body tensed, and his fists trembled as he fought against the anger.   
  
Brushing his hands over the ticklish green grass, Neil looked at the trees in the distance. The trees that would lead back to Bee’s little stone house.  
  
He heard Andrew take a few deep breaths.  
Then.  
  
‘Is something wrong with him?’  
  
‘No,’ Neil said. ‘He’s just grieving.’  
  
‘It’s better that way.’  
  
Neil looked at Andrew, but Andrew didn’t meet his gaze, instead staring at the ground. A pale blue flower grew on the ground next to his feet, the colour somehow still vibrant amidst the green.  
  
‘What happened?’ Neil asked quietly.  
  
Instead of answering, Andrew turned his head to look at Neil’s left leg. He reached out, but stopped before he touched.  
  
‘What happened?’ Andrew shot the question back.  
  
Lola’s anger,   
a piece of burning wood swinging at Neil’s head.  
His father’s loud voice, shouting how Neil was absolutely  
_worthless.  
_ His father, looming above him, piece of wood in his hand, Lola holding Neil down.  
His father, taking a swing at his left leg.  
  
The pain  
  
‘I said no,’ Neil summarized.  
  
Andrew’s face was blank, but his eyes flashed as they stared at Neil’s leg.  
  
Neil slowly rolled up his pants, wincing when the fabric brushed over the broken skin.   
  
Amidst the vibrant green, the pale blues and soft whites,   
Neil’s leg was a harsh purple, a _burning_ red.  
  
It had no place here.  
  
Andrew said, ‘I’m going to touch your leg.'  
  
But he didn’t move.  
  
‘Okay,’ Neil said.  
  
Andrew moved,  
and covered the wound with his hand.   
Hid it from view.   
  
His touch didn’t hurt.  
  
‘A pale blue blanket hangs in front of the beds,’ Neil said, turning his head to look at Andrew, who had gone silent and still. His hand was warm on Neil’s leg. ‘There’s a small table in the corner, near the window, with three chairs. I wanted to sit on the one closest to the door, but Aaron didn’t let me. Aaron told me you didn’t help at all with the baking. Said you ate everything.’  
  
Andrew was silent for a while.   
Then, ‘The smell’s gone now.’  
  
‘No, it isn’t,’ Neil said. ‘It still smells like you there. Like sweet bread.’  
  
‘I’m not sweet,’ Andrew said, carefully removing his hand from Neil’s ankle.   
  
It still didn’t hurt.  
No, Neil’s stomach felt pleasantly warm, and he smiled.  
  
‘I thought you didn’t lie.’  
  
‘Not to you,’ Andrew answered, finally looking at Neil.  
  
Neil reached out a hand. Asked, ‘Yes?’  
  
In response, Andrew moved closer to Neil.  
  
‘Yes.’  
  
With a touch as light as the grass surrounding them,  
Neil brushed a few strands of hair away from Andrew’s face.  
  
Andrew watched him.  
Watched him for a long time.  
  
☽  
  
Neil tried for perhaps the fourth time to draw the wolf.    
He should’ve known that when it had taken him months to master the art of drawing trees, he couldn’t draw something as complex and intriguing as the wolf in just a day.  
  
He was busy erasing the rough outline of the wolf’s eyes when a scream sounded through the village, piercing through even the thick wooden walls of Neil’s house.  
  
Neil immediately crawled to the ladder.  
  
Downstairs, his father quickly moved to the door.  
  
‘What happened?’ Neil asked.  
  
‘What do you think?’ His father looked up at him. ‘An attack.’  
  
It looked like he was smiling.  
  
The fear that normally took hold of Neil while he was inside this house came creeping up, up, up,  
over the ladder, over his arms, and around his throat.  
 _Squeezing_.  
  
It felt worse than before.  
  
Because an attack  
meant that Andrew had murdered someone.  
  
When his father was gone, Neil rushed down, grabbed his cloak, and was running as soon as his feet hit the cold, muddy ground.  
  
Shouts were coming from the forest. Lots of them.   
And though everyone was shouting at the same time,  
there was one word Neil could understand clearly.  
  
_MONSTER._  
  
☽  
  
There were more villagers standing in the forest than there had been in the past year or so, and they were all crowding around someone.  
  
Neil pushed himself to run faster.   
From the corner of his eye, he saw Aaron running too.  
  
Pushing bodies out of the way, Neil managed to get to the front  
and then.  
  
It felt like the ground was falling away beneath his feet, like someone had set fire to the meadow.  
  
On the ground, barely recognizable because of all the blood,  
was Allison.  
  
☽

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; ‘This is what you get!’ his father shouted, addressing the villagers. ‘This is what happens when you enter the woods!’
> 
> uhh I should probably say I'm sorry? D: 
> 
> Anyways, hope you can all relax after another week! <3 Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you thought, if you want :)
> 
> EDIT: LOOK AT [THIS BEAUTIFUL ART](http://still-waiting-for-godot.tumblr.com/post/172987969194/a-fanart-of-a-fanfic-of-a-fanart-from) BY GODOT


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> Today I found out there are different types of lenny faces.  
> I cried.  
> Look at it.  
> (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)
> 
> ANYWAYS here's another long chapter!! 
> 
> Enjoy (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)
> 
> (i cant look at its face im DYing)

When Neil snapped out of his shock, he looked up and met Aaron’s gaze.  
Whatever passed between them was too short to understand, but it seemed to jar something inside Aaron, because he quickly moved to Allison and started feeling for a pulse.  
  
Hands suddenly grabbed Neil’s shoulders and turned him around.  
Nicky,  
trying to peer over his shoulder.  
  
Nicky flinched when he saw all the blood.  
  
‘Where’s Renee?’ Neil asked dazedly.  
  
‘I don’t know.’ Nicky’s voice was shaking. ‘She’s not here.’  
  
Neil searched for pale hair and a stupidly friendly face but he didn’t see either.  
  
By accident, he met his father’s eyes.   
His father was standing on the other side of the circle around Allison’s bloodied body, staring at Neil with a smile on his face. Smiling at the chaos and the blood. Letting slip who he really was.   
Then he masked it again, twisted his expression into concern and anger.  
  
‘This is what you get!’ he shouted, addressing the villagers. ‘This is what happens when you enter the woods!’  
  
Neil didn’t need to wonder.  
This time, the fear came running, and Neil took a stumbling step backwards. He bumped against something hot,  
something that immediately grabbed his arms.  
  
‘Running again?’ Lola whispered in his ear, digging her nails into his arms.  
  
In the forest, leaves rustled.  
Loudly.  
From the corner of his eye, Neil thought he saw something flash bronze.  
  
‘Let me go,’ Neil hissed, not wanting to draw attention to them. He jerked his arms away, and to his surprise, Lola let go.  
  
There was a satisfied smile on her face however.   
  
‘For now,’ she said.

Neil couldn’t breathe.  
  
All of sudden, the villager’s anxious voices grew quiet,  
until the only voice shouting through the woods was Aaron’s.  
  
‘Get the fuck out of my way!’  
  
Neil quickly turned around and saw people moving to the side,  
saw the blood dripping on the grey forest ground, painting it redder than a sunset,  
as Aaron carried Allison back into the village.  
  
Neil started running after them, but Nicky grabbed his arm and pulled him back.  
  
‘I don’t think that’s smart,’ he hissed. ‘Wait here with me for a while.’  
  
_What?_ Nicky’s voice sounded different from his usual _sir,_ but Neil dismissed it for the more important question.  
  
‘Is she alive?’  
  
Nicky nodded. ‘Barely.’  
  
☽  
  
Neil felt anxious.  
  
He knew he was thinking, he knew thoughts were passing through his head, but they burned up quickly. Nothing stayed. It was almost impossible to think, and the house was stifling, suffocating, the heat sweltering.   
  
Neil had been confined in the house for three days now.  
  
Meanwhile, his father was doing the most mundane things inside the house, fixing the creaking chair or cleaning out their cupboards.  
  
Neil walked around the main room for the tenth time that day. He knew. Counting was something that somehow did stick inside his head.  
  
He wanted to look out the window,   
but it had been fogged up by the heat of the flames for two days now.  
  
Until suddenly, on the fourth day, his father stood up from his chair with a sigh.  
  
‘I’m going to the council.' He fixed Neil with an icy stare, but it didn’t even make Neil shiver now. There was too much heat for ice. ‘When I come back, you’ll be here.’  
  
Neil stared hazily at his father’s shoulder. ‘Yes, father,’ he said tiredly, voice horribly unused.  
  
He hadn’t talked for two days.  
Talking cost too much precious air.  
  
Without another word, his father turned around, cloak already in his hand.  
  
And then the door opened for the first time in four days.  
The startingly cold, no, _freezing_ air was like a physical slap in his face and Neil gasped, trying to get air into his lungs again.  
   
Before he knew what he was doing, he was running towards the door.  
It slammed shut in his face.  
  
Heart hurting with longing, taking in quick, too quick, breaths, Neil ran to the fogged up window.  
He n-needed—  
needed  
the air.  
  
He pressed his hand against the glass.  
It was cold and made his entire hand tingle from the unknown sensation.  
  
Neil’s knees felt weak with relief.  
Or maybe that was just because of the lack of oxygen.  
  
Slowly, he sank to the floor.  
  
But he kept his hand pressed against the cold glass.  
  
☽  
  
His father didn’t return after a few minutes, nor after an hour, and Neil’s arm, his entire body, felt tired and sluggish.  
  
He ached for the biting cold.  
  
Dragging his gaze up from the floor,   
Neil watched his burned hands.  
Watched the scars running over his skin.   
_Running_.  
  
Neil took a few struggling breaths, then dropped his hands to the floor and tiredly pushed himself up.  
First on his knees,  
then slowly to his feet.  
  
He grabbed hold of the door and pushed it open.  
  
The cold threw knives at him,  
piercing his skin _everywhere_ , but Neil didn’t wait for them to hit anything vital, stepping out onto the frozen ground, and then running, running, _running_.  
  
Because he wasn’t wearing his cloak, people paid less attention, and Neil used it to his full advantage to take the main street—the fastest way to the bakery.  
  
When the smell of bread started coming his way, Neil ran faster, until he could see the small house, and then he was throwing his body against the door and stumbling inside.  
  
‘Hello—Neil?!’   
  
Nicky immediately hurried to him, caught him when Neil fell down.  
  
‘I was so concerned, it’s been days and there was no sign of you, like, anywhere,’ Nicky rambled, ‘and you live with _him_ you know, so I was beginning to think the worst.’  
  
‘How’s Allison?’ Neil gasped, his lungs feeling abused and blissfully cold.  
  
Instead of answering, Nicky guided Neil through the door into their house. Aaron was sitting at the table, mixing a few herbs together, but when they walked in he looked up in surprise, then annoyance.  
  
‘What’s _he—_ ’  
  
‘Can you watch the shop?’ Nicky asked.  
  
‘I’m already looking after a patient, I don’t need another one,’ Aaron said.  
  
‘I’m fine,’ Neil said.  
  
Aaron looked at him like he didn’t believe him. ‘Sure you’re fine. You’re not swaying on your legs at all. Just don’t collapse in my house again, it’s getting old.’  
  
Aaron stood up and moved past them.  
  
Nicky sighed and half-carried Neil to the pale blue fabric. Behind it, lying on the biggest bed—because of course—was Allison, sitting up and staring out the window.  
  
She turned when Neil sat down tiredly on the bed.  
And he couldn’t help it.  
  
Neil stared.  
  
‘Don’t tell me,’ Allison said. ‘You’re finally here for me _._ ’  
  
Neil tried to find his voice. It took him three tries before he rasped, ‘What happened?’  
  
Allison looked at him.   
Then she reached up and touched the twisted, _burned_ , skin on the left side of her neck. It was mostly the left side, save for one curving line that curled around her throat like a knife wound.  
  
The scars were near identical to the ones on Neil’s back, on his left hand.  
  
‘I went into the woods,’ she said. ‘I was trying to see how far I could go when I noticed someone trailing me. Obviously, no one trails me without there being consequences.’ Allison flipped her hair over her shoulders. Neil could see the scars more clearly now. ‘I threw some poisonous dust in the air, but the fire was close behind. As you can see, I didn’t dodge quickly enough.’  
  
‘But the blood…’ Neil started, thinking about how they found Allison. If she'd only been burned, there wouldn’t have been so much blood.  
  
‘Yeah, I have no idea,’ Allison said, inspecting her finger nails. ‘I was kind of unconscious.’  
  
Neil looked at the scars on her throat.  
It made his own skin itch. He felt too hot, too uncomfortable, and his left hand twitched uncontrollably. It was getting harder to breathe.  
  
‘Neil,’ Allison said suddenly, snapping him back to the here and now. ‘I healed the wounds, but I kept the scars.’  
  
‘Why?’ he rasped.  
  
‘Because they sure as fuck aren’t going to think they’ve won.’  
  
Allison’s eyes stared into his, her dark blue like a night sky, vast and endless.

It was in the way she held herself, even while being bedridden.  
_You can’t end me,_ her eyes said.  
  
Rubbing his right hand over the burned skin on his left, Neil wished he had her strength.  
  
When he looked up again, Allison was still looking at him.  
She smiled fiercely, almost aggressively, like she wanted to shake him with her smile.  
  
‘You’re here, aren’t you?’ she said.  
  
☽  
  
Walking back through the bakery, the scent of sweet bread filled the air like clouds. It reminded Neil of strong hands, flashing eyes, and the soft touch of a wildflower.  
  
‘So we’re not gonna talk about poisonous dust or, like, “the fire was close behind”?’  
  
Startled, Neil turned to Nicky, who was looking at him in disbelief.  
  
‘At all?’ Nicky asked.  
  
‘I thought you knew Allison was—’ Neil stopped, unsure if he was allowed to talk about this.  
  
‘Was what?’  
  
Neil shifted uncomfortably on the spot. He searched for a way to explain without… telling.  
  
‘There’s just. More.’  
  
‘Between you and her?’ Nicky asked in surprise. ‘I thought she and Renee were together.’  
  
‘What?’  
  
‘Wait, I thought you knew?’  
  
Neil and Nicky stared at each other in confusion for a few seconds.  
  
Then Nicky whispered, ‘What do you mean… _more_?’  
  
Feeling uncomfortable, Neil looked away, studying the shelves filled with bread. ‘Like, wounds turning into scars in a day,’ he answered.  
  
‘So she’s a healer?’  
  
‘Yes,’ Neil said slowly. ‘But she’s also... more.’  
  
Nicky smiled faintly. ‘You mean magic.’  
  
Instead of replying, Neil walked to the basket filled with pastries. He picked one up. ‘Can I buy this?’  
  
‘Yeah,’ Nicky replied distractedly, walking towards the counter. ‘I wonder though… What else would be possible?’ He looked at Neil. ‘If such serious wounds can be healed within a day… Do you think you could save someone from death too?’  
  
Neil’s stomach turned unpleasantly.   
He knew what Nicky was asking.  
  
‘I don’t think anyone can be saved from death,’ he answered.  
  
‘Yeah,’ Nicky agreed, his smile now gone. There was so much sadness in his voice. ‘I guess you’re right.’  
  
But Neil didn’t know if it had actually been the right thing to say.  
  
☽  
  
He should be getting back to the house before his father returned, he _knew_ he should, but the way his feet brought him to the woods felt like icy water flowing through the river,  
following an inevitable course.  
  
The bare branches creaked and groaned in the wind, and Neil allowed only the tip of his boots to touch the forest ground.   
  
He took a deep,  
deep breath,  
and closed his eyes as the familiar, freezing air filled him.  
He took another deep breath, like he could take the excess with him,  
like he could keep it safe until he needed it the most.  
Finally, he took another,  
one last breath.  
Only this time when he exhaled, he felt the brush of warm air against his lips.  
  
His heart stuttered.  
  
He had longed for the cold, the woods, and this.  
  
‘Touch me,’ Neil breathed out.  
  
When he breathed in again, the air tasted like honey and earth.  
  
Warm fingers touched his neck, trailed over his cold skin, curled around and into his hair.  
Pulled him forward.  
  
Neil’s breathing was fast, and every breath he took was filled with warmth.  
  
His eyes were closed, yet he could see the blue colour of the sky, the pale blue wildflowers, and the vibrant green grass.  
  
It wasn’t a flower that touched his lips this time,  
but the touch was just as soft,  
just as brief.  
  
Neil missed it the instant it was gone.  
  
When he opened his eyes, he was met with the sun’s dark orange rays streaming through the trees, painting everything in autumn colours.   
  
He was alone.  
  
☽  
  
The next day, his father ordered him to put on his red cloak.  
Neil didn’t ask why.  
Anything to get out of the house.  
  
But when they were walking towards the town’s square, a lot of villagers going the same way, Neil knew there was going to be another announcement, and he knew it wasn’t going to be pleasant.  
  
‘Stand behind me where you belong,’ his father hissed, before they got up on the stage.  
  
Looking down at the clasps of his father’s cloak, Neil nodded and followed him up on the stage.  
  
All these faces, all these eyes, were watching them, but Neil stared ahead, searching for the trees behind the darkness of the village.  
  
He wished he could howl.  
  
‘Another attack,’ his father said quietly. He paused, and looked everyone in the eyes. If that was even possible. Neil believed it was. ‘I don’t want this for you,’ Nathan said, sounding sad. ‘I don’t wish this fate on any of us. Any of your daughters… Your sons.’   
  
Neil saw some parents clutch their children closer.  
  
‘We all thought we were safe from the monster, but we’re not. It’s not just the monster anymore. We thought we were safe if we stayed away, but it has gotten stronger, it started working together with a _witch_.’  
  
When the word left his mouth, a startled and afraid shock rippled through the crowd. People slapped their hands in front of their mouths and grabbed their good luck charms.   
  
‘Magic…’ Nathan continued, ‘is an abomination. It needs to be erased from this world. We need to _do_ something against it.’  
  
Nods, murmurs of agreement.  
  
‘I want us all working together against these threats!’ Nathan’s voice grew louder. ‘Report any and all magic you see! If you suspect someone’s a witch, kill them on sight! Protect yourself and your neighbours! Don’t show any mercy for these monsters that never showed mercy for _us_ , or for _you_ , or your _children_!’  
  
Instantly, the horror of what his father was urging the villagers to do dawned on Neil, dropped down on his body like a heavy fist.  
  
Allison wouldn’t be safe.  
  
But his father wasn’t finished.   
As always, when Neil had been knocked down, his father would make sure he’d never get back up again.  
  
‘I’m sending a small group to the village near the river,’ Nathan said. ‘Where they know how to deal with monsters.’  
  
The village near the river?  
All trade with them had stopped years ago, and Neil didn’t know why.  
  
☽  
  
After the meeting, Neil immediately ran towards the bakery to warn Allison. He noticed Nicky and Aaron were close behind, but before they could reach the small, sweet smelling house, someone cleared their throat.  
No, not someone.  
Neil’s father.  
  
They all halted in shock.  
Turned around slowly.  
  
Nathan was standing in the middle of the road, staring them down.  
A freezing gust of wind took the ends of his cape and threw them into the air.  
  
The sound reminded Neil of a raven taking flight.  
  
Nathan’s frozen eyes slid to Aaron. He smiled coldly. ‘You really look alike.’  
  
Then he focused his attention on Nicky, who jolted when the piercing gaze burned through him. ‘You’ll join the others,’ Neil’s father said. ‘And travel to the village near the river.’  
  
‘W-what?’ Nicky asked weakly.   
  
Immediately, Aaron took a step forward. Neil saw his hands were balled into fists. ‘You can’t do that!’ Aaron exclaimed angrily. ‘You can’t just take away another—’  
  
His father’s gaze cut through the air,  
cut through Aaron’s words as he turned back to him and snarled, ‘Shut your mouth.’  
  
Aaron gasped, like he’d been punched in the stomach.   
  
Neil knew how that felt.  
  
‘I’m h-honoured,’ Nicky stammered. ‘But I don’t think I’m—’  
  
‘Then it’s settled,’ were his father’s final words before he turned his attention to Neil. ‘I expect you home before sunset.’  
  
Dropping his gaze, Neil nodded silently.  
  
His father turned back to the square.  
  
Nicky whimpered, hands shaking at his side.  
  
‘He can’t—’ Aaron started, staring angrily at Nathan’s retreating back, but his voice shook. From frustration or fear. Both, maybe.  
  
‘He can,’ Neil said.   
  
Lying was pointless.  
  
☽  
  
Neil walked towards the forest, even though sunset was still hours away.  
He needed his fears to be away, if only for a few minutes.  
  
_Crunch_ said the leaves underneath his boots as he walked into the woods,  
his fingers trailing over tree trunks,  
the rough bark underneath his fingers cold and grey.  
  
Neil breathed out and watched his breath billow in front of him.  
  
The scent of the forest, a warm, earthly smell, reminded him of the last time he’d been here.  
He closed his eyes, and remembered the soft touch against his lips.  
  
His fingers dug into the tree on his right.  
  
Exhaling shakily, Neil tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck, imagining warm fingers trailing over his cold skin.  
  
He could almost feel Andrew’s lips press against his pulse.  
It made something hot, something liquid, flow through his body.  
Like a flame getting hotter at the base.  
  
It was frightening.  
  
Neil quickly opened his eyes again.  
His breath was coming in short gasps as he stared wide-eyed at the unmoving forest.  
  
For once, it was completely silent; silent apart from the shallow breaths Neil took, trying to get cold air back into his body.  
  
_Crunch_ said the leaves behind Neil.  
  
He knew what he would see when he turned around,  
how the sight of bronze eyes and low breaths clouding the air would make his heart stutter.  
  
He wondered if it was obvious,   
wondered if Andrew saw him _burning_.  
  
It was kind of strange, he thought, as he started walking backwards, unsure whether or not the wolf would hunt him out of the forest.  
It was kind of strange that he was more afraid of the wolf knowing,  
than the wolf hunting him down.  
  
Neil knew  
it was because he was already caught.  
  
☽  
  
Neil never asked questions, but Aaron’s choked off _he can’t—_  resounded through his mind, so before he made his way up to his bedroom, Neil paused and turned to his father.  
  
‘Who are you sending away?’  
  
His father looked up from the letters he was reading at their table, the fire crackling loudly in the background. ‘Don’t worry,’ he replied. ‘I’m never sending you away.’  
  
_Never._  
He’d never be free from this.  
  
Taking a hot, sticky breath, Neil dropped his eyes to his father’s hands, still holding the letters.  
  
‘Why did you send Nicky?’ he asked quietly.  
  
His father put the letters down. Put his hands on the table and pushed himself to his feet.  
  
‘Neil,’ he said, moving closer.  
  
Neil fought against the urge to run.  
He struggled to take another breath.  
  
‘You don’t have time for… friends. In a month, you’re going to be married. You should start thinking about your responsibilities.’  
  
‘I don’t _—_ ’ Neil started, but his father’s hand shot out, covering his mouth before he could finish his sentence. Gripping Neil’s jaw tightly, his father forced his head up.  
  
‘Look at me,’ he hissed.  
  
Neil looked into his father’s icy blue eyes.  
  
Though they made him feel frozen in place, the hand covering his mouth made Neil feel like he was burning, nostrils flaring as he tried to breathe in the heavy, stifling air.  
  
His father leaned in close, until all Neil could see was the burning ice, surrounding him, like he was being drowned in freezing water.  
  
‘You don’t know what’s good for you,’ his father said slowly. 'Do you know why?’  
  
He tightened his grip on Neil’s face, and Neil’s breath came in short, painful, _burning_ gasps as he started to feel lightheaded from the lack of air.  
Heat was pressing in on him.  
Suffocating him.  
  
‘I asked, _do you know why?_ ’ his father repeated angrily, shaking Neil.   
  
Fighting to breathe, Neil reached up with shaking hands and tried to pull his father’s hand away from his face.  
  
But his father’s grip was strong.  
  
Every heartbeat hurt inside his chest, and Neil felt tears streaming down his face as black spots slowly took over his vision.  
  
But then, finally, his father released him.  
  
Neil fell to the ground,   
his knees hitting the dark floor with a loud _thud_ , and then his hands, barely able to catch himself from falling.  
  
His arms were shaking badly as Neil took in big, rasping breaths of sticky air.   
He coughed, and coughed, and coughed, and just when Neil was sure he was going to choke, his father asked calmly, ‘Why don’t you know what’s good for you, Neil?’  
  
Through the tears, Neil watched his burned hands.  
  
‘Because I’m too stupid,’ he rasped.  
  
☽  
  
He must be.  
Because as soon as his father went to bed, Neil took one big, rattled breath, and slid down the ladder.  
  
Stuffing his cloak inside his shirt, Neil slipped out of the uncomfortably hot house and into the freezing cold air.  
  
He wanted to breathe in the cold so badly, but he forced himself to sneak soundlessly between all the dark houses and then through all the dark trees, his footsteps quickening until he was running.  
  
Running away from his father, the fear, the feeling of suffocating with every breath.  
Running away from the heat,  
but.  
  
When Andrew started running with him,   
Neil felt his cheeks heat up.  
  
Warm breath, warm hands, warm lips,  
_warm, warm, warm._  
  
Neil took in a big gulp of ice cold air, and focused on the cold stinging his burning cheeks.  
It did little good.  
  
Andrew didn’t say anything, just followed Neil wherever he ran, eyes flashing in the dark.  
  
Heart racing, Neil forced himself to run faster, as fast as he could,  
his legs pumping underneath him as he ran towards the turning tree, and beyond it.  
  
He could hear Andrew’s footsteps close behind,  
quieter than Neil’s on the frozen forest ground that soon turned softer,  
while the trees blurring past Neil turned warmer, browner, greener.  
  
But Neil didn’t stop.  
  
His breaths were rough and fast, the cold air burning his lungs.   
Still he forced himself to go faster.  
  
It felt like a chase, this,  
Neil trying to outrun Andrew,  
trying to outrun the burning, the heat.  
  
They ran past Bee’s house without stopping,  
leaving behind the smoke rising from her chimney,  
leaving all fire behind,  
until the only fire left was the one in Neil’s chest as he struggled to breathe.  
  
The green grass bent away as he flew through it, as he ran through the meadow, his cape billowing behind him.  
  
The air was warmer here, lighter.   
The sun was shining softly.  
  
And Neil didn’t want to run anymore.  
  
In the middle of the green meadow,  
with soft yellow sunlight streaming through the trees surrounding it,  
with white and pale blue wild flowers spread throughout the field,  
Neil stopped running.  
  
He didn’t need to wait for Andrew to catch up.   
  
He’d kept up with Neil every step of the way.  
  
Birds sang quietly in the trees.  
Neil turned around.   
His chest was heaving.  
So was Andrew’s.  
  
They stared at each other for a long time.  
  
And then the words, ‘Touch me again.’  
  
Two frantic heartbeats, and Andrew was in front of him, hands reaching out and pulling Neil closer, hands roaming over his ruined back, pulling him closer, their bodies touching,  
Andrew's hands threading through his hair,  
pulling him _closer_.  
  
And then, Andrew kissed him.  
  
In the soft meadow, Andrew kissed him roughly, dragging his mouth over Neil’s like he had done with his hands.  
  
In the soft meadow, Neil dug his nails into Andrew’s neck, saying fuck you to not wanting as he kept him as close as possible, as he kissed him back, their tongues sliding against each other.  
  
For someone who treasured every breath,  
Neil couldn’t care less that he shared each and every one with Andrew.  
  
Only when he was almost suffocating on his wanting, did Neil pull back.  
  
He leaned his forehead against Andrew’s and tried to catch his breath.  
  
Breathing just as roughly as him,  
Andrew rubbed his hand softly over Neil’s neck.  
  
But Neil’s heart didn’t calm down.  
  
‘I can’t think,’ he confessed quietly.   
  
Instead of replying, Andrew moved closer.  
His cheek brushed against Neil’s cheek for a moment before he ducked his head and placed a soft kiss underneath his jaw.  
  
Neil tilted his head back,  
and immediately closed his eyes when Andrew kissed down his neck.  
  
Soft and warm touches trailed over his skin.  
  
‘This doesn’t help,’ Neil laughed breathlessly, holding on so tightly, arms wrapped around Andrew’s shoulders.  
  
Andrew stopped,   
but his lips still hovered over Neil’s neck.  
The warm breaths brushing against his skin made Neil shiver.  
  
‘You want to stop?’ Andrew asked.  
  
No.  
But Neil needed to get the words out before there weren’t any left in his mind.  
  
‘Nicky’s being sent away by my father.’  
  
Andrew’s hands tightened uncomfortably on his neck, for just a second, and then Andrew took a few steps back.  
  
‘What?’  
  
‘He wants to stop magic. He’s sending a group of people to the village near the river, to ask for help. Nicky is one of them.’  
  
‘Aaron?’ Andrew asked.   
  
It was the first time he’d ever said his name.  
  
Neil shook his head. ‘He’s staying.’  
  
Andrew’s hands twitched, balled into fists, then relaxed again.  
  
‘Is he careful?’  
  
‘Who? Aaron? I think so. I don’t see why not.’  
  
‘You don’t know?’ Andrew asked.  
  
Neil dropped his gaze to the ground.  
_Too stupid_.  
  
‘Aaron’s a healer,’ Andrew said.  
  
‘Yeah, he studies medicine.’  
  
‘No, he studies magic.’  
  
The answer was so surprising that Neil looked up.  
Then it dawned on him.  
  
‘He’s not safe there,’ Neil said. ‘Not for long.’  
  
‘Nowhere’s safe,’ Andrew replied.  
  
It wasn’t true.  
  
‘I feel safe wi—’ Neil started to say, but Andrew quickly covered his mouth with a hand.  
  
His eyes flashed.  
But Neil held his stare.  
Took hold of Andrew’s wrist, and pulled it away.  
  
‘This,’ Neil said, ‘feels safe.’  
  
‘It shouldn’t,’ Andrew replied, but he didn’t pull away from Neil’s touch.   
  
He looked at him.  
He stayed.  
  
☽  
  
Feeling jittery and nervous, Neil made his way over to the blacksmith.   
He needed his fear to be confirmed.  
  
_Clang_ said the hammer as it struck the iron on the anvil.  
Renee’s back was to him, so Neil moved in front of her.  
  
‘You’re going too,’ he said.  
  
He hoped she’d say no.  
  
Foolish.  
To hope.  
  
‘Yes,’ Renee said.  
  
☽

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; ‘I won’t let anyone hurt my family. Never again.’
> 
> So, uh, surprise? Allison isn't dead !!
> 
> ... i'm so sorry for that cliffhanger
> 
> Thank you SO much for reading again♡♡  
> Please let me know what you thought, if you want! :D


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!!
> 
> I tried something new with this chapter, I hope you like it :)
> 
> Enjoy!

_  
Nicky_ _  
__  
_ ✧  
  
‘This fucking sucks,’ Aaron said.  
  
Well, there wasn’t exactly a nice way to say this, so Nicky merely nodded and said, ‘Yeah.’

His hand was on the doorknob.  
All he needed was to push, to start walking, to start walking for way too long until he reached the village near the river.  
Where he was supposed to look for something that would kill the one thing that still gave Aaron some hope.  
  
‘Promise me you’ll look after the shop. You don’t have to try out any difficult recipes,’ Nicky said, looking his cousin in the eye one more time. ‘Sure you don’t want a hug?’  
  
‘If you hug me, this feels like goodbye,’ Aaron said threateningly.  
  
Lately, everything Aaron said sounded like a threat.  
Nicky didn’t doubt he even threatened himself.  
To not start crying.  
  
‘You’re right,’ Nicky said, finding the last shreds of his optimism and smiled. ‘You know how fast these beautiful legs go. I’ll be back before you know it!’  
  
Aaron rolled his eyes. Gave him a little push towards the door. ‘Just go.’  
  
Pushing the door open, Nicky stepped into the terrible outside.  
  
His heart felt hollow as he walked to the entrance of the village.  
He couldn’t forget the way Aaron’s hands had lingered on his back for a moment too long.  
  
✧  
  
At the horrible gloomy entrance, because who in their right minds decided these two dark, ominous pillars would be welcoming, Nicky saw Renee. She was wearing a thick, white cloak. No doubt she was hiding knives underneath.  
  
‘You ready?’ Renee asked. Her voice had lost some of its normal lightness.  
  
‘Uh, not really. I don’t want to go,’ Nicky answered. ‘Tell me honestly. Do you want to?’  
  
Renee’s smile was sad. ‘I’d rather it's us than Nathan.’  
  
‘Yeah, but. We’re supposed to get something to _—_ ’    
  
Before he could finish his sentence, one of the old, wrinkly council members walked up to them, carrying a large bag over his shoulder.  
  
Renee’s gaze held Nicky’s for a moment longer. ‘I’ll do anything to keep Allison safe,’ she whispered.  
  
‘Are we ready to go?’ the ancient councilmember whose name was definitely not important asked.  
  
Nicky took a calming breath.  
Looked at Renee.  
  
‘Yes,’ he said.  
  
✧  
  
It took them two days before they reached the village near the river.  
  
On the first day, mister grandpa decided it might be fun to share stories of the boring old days.  
Nicky shot that down immediately. He’d have enough time to be bored and old, and now was definitely not that time.  
  
On the second day, when Renee took over his shift, keeping watch, she offered him a knife.  
Nicky hadn’t shot that down immediately.  
  
‘I don’t know how to use that,’ he breathed, trying to keep quiet so he wouldn't wake up the drooling elderly. Though he was probably too deaf to hear them anyway.  
  
‘It’s fairly simple,’ Renee answered. ‘You find someone you really hate, and your body will do the rest.’  
  
Nicky stared at the knife. ‘I’ve never hurt anyone.’  
  
‘If you don’t _—_ ’  
  
Before she could finish her sentence, Nicky grabbed the knife. He looked at her.  
  
‘I won’t let anyone hurt my family. Never again.’  
  
Renee nodded.  
  
✧  
  
‘Look at that!’ Nicky exclaimed, pointing at the bright green banner hanging over a large gate. ‘That’s _so_ much better!’  
  
Grandpa didn’t seem convinced. ‘It’s too much,’ he grouched with the five teeth left in his mouth. Or something. Nicky hadn’t exactly counted.  
  
‘I think it’s nice,’ Renee agreed.  
  
Then, to their right, a figure emerged from the house next to the gate.  
Only it wasn’t really a figure.  
It was a _god_.  
  
‘No,’ Nicky whispered to Renee, as the deity walked towards them. ‘ _That_ is nice.’  
  
‘Hi there!’ the creature from the heavens said, and he waved them inside the village. ‘We were told you were coming to visit. If you’ll come with me, I can show you to your rooms.’  
  
Nicky stared at the impossibly beautiful face.  
  
‘I _so_ want to come with you,’ he whispered.  
  
Renee elbowed him in the side.  
  
‘We would love to,’ she said. ‘We’re a little cold and tired from the journey.’  
  
‘Yes, please warm us up,’ Nicky said quickly, staring at the god. His eyes began to water, but he didn’t want to blink and miss a second of his heavenly appearance.  
  
A few houses away from the shrine where the god lived was a bigger house, which the celestial called the town house. A place where everyone could find a warm meal, a place to sleep, and some company.  
  
It boggled Nicky’s mind,  
though not as much as the god in front of him.  
  
‘So how much do we have to pay?’ he asked.  
  
Impossibly gorgeous eyes focused on him, and Nicky felt unworthy.  
  
‘Nothing. It’s free.’  
  
‘What?’ Nicky gaped. ‘Why would you do that?’  
  
‘Because we want everyone to be happy?’ The heavenly creature smiled shyly, like he only just realized this was a wildly uncommon concept. ‘It’s run by Jeremy _—_ wait, I’ll introduce you to him. Perhaps he can explain it better than I can.’  
  
‘We never caught your name,’ Renee remarked politely.  
  
‘Oh! You’re right.’ The god held out his hand, and Renee shook it immediately. ‘My name’s Erik.’  
  
‘Renee.’  
  
The gross old man shook those heavenly hands too, but Nicky didn’t really mind, because then the god turned to him, smiling friendly, waiting until Nicky touched him.  
  
Hell yeah, Nicky would touch _the heaven_ out of that hand.  
  
‘I’m Nicky,’ he said, shaking Erik’s hand. He could hear angels singing behind him.  
  
‘Hi Nicky,’ Erik said softly, still smiling.   
  
Nicky died and went to heaven.  
  
‘Let’s move on,’ the oldest human on earth interrupted the best moment of Nicky’s non-religious life.  
  
‘Ah,’ Erik said sheepishly, sadly releasing Nicky’s hand. ‘Yes. Please, follow me.’  
  
They walked up the stairs to the town house, Nicky taking the steps two at a time. He shouted at the wheezing, nearly dying fossil, ‘Let’s move on!’  
  
Beside him, Renee shook her head with a small smile.  
  
✧  
  
A beaming guy greeted them cheerfully as they walked into the warm, large hall. He introduced himself as Jeremy.  
  
After introductions, they waited a full minute for grandpa to find enough breath to make it into the hall, before they got a small tour of the building. It was larger than any building Nicky had ever seen.  
  
‘There are more than two rooms?!’ he exclaimed as they walked around.  
  
‘Yeah,’ Erik said, falling back so he could walk beside him. ‘It took us years, but we managed to expand it so there’s room for everyone.’  
  
Nicky stared into his beautiful eyes. ‘Amazing,’ he breathed.  
  
Erik laughed shyly. ‘Glad you think so.’  
  
They were shown their room, and then Erik and Jeremy unfortunately left them alone to get accommodated.  
  
Nicky didn’t really need to sit in this room to feel more at home.  
As soon as Erik had shook his hand, he’d felt home already.  
  
‘I’m going to take a nap,’ grandpa said.  
  
‘Of course you are,’ Nicky replied.  
  
‘Sleep well,’ Renee said politely. ‘Nicky and I are going to stroll around the village.’  
  
As soon as they left the room, Nicky asked, ‘We’re not going to stroll around, are we?’  
  
‘No, we’re not.’  
  
✧  
  
Unfortunately, they found nothing out of the ordinary.  
No magical executions _—_  
Magic executions?  
... Hm.  
No magic was being killed out on the streets, anyway.  
  
Nicky refused to start panicking though. They still had one day before they had to get back.   
  
Luckily, Renee had the same thought, because she started conversations with people who visited the hall, talking about mundane things, such as food and religion.  
  
When it neared dinner time, _finally_ , more people came to the big town house. They were carrying baskets with all kinds of food and soon, the entire building smelled delicious.  
  
‘This is surreal,’ Nicky said.  
  
‘It’s wonderful,’ Renee replied.   
  
Carrying two plates, Jeremy made his way over to them, zigzagging through the many bodies. ‘Enjoy!’ he smiled.  
  
'Thank you.' Renee took the plates from him, handing one to Nicky. ‘Say, if it’s not too forward of me, is your family here too?’  
  
‘My parents are in the kitchen actually,’ Jeremy answered. A few people shuffled past him, laughing and clapping him on the back. Jeremy greeted them with a big grin, before turning back to Renee and Nicky. ‘My partner will be home soon.’  
  
‘We can’t wait to meet them,’ Renee said.  
  
_Them._  
Nicky wondered about the pronoun and how Renee’s instincts worked, when the doors leading into the hall opened,  
and beams of warm orange sunlight streamed into the busy hall.  
A silhouette was standing in the doorway, the sun setting behind him.  
  
The dark haired guy closed his eyes for a second, breathed in, then immediately looked to Jeremy before walking their way.  
  
Jeremy had noticed this too. ‘Speaking of,’ he smiled. It was the biggest, happiest smile Nicky had ever seen, and it kind of hurt.  
  
Imagine having someone that made you smile like that.  
  
The dark haired guy wrapped an arm around Jeremy’s shoulders, then rubbed his hand up and down Jeremy’s arm.   
  
Jeremy smiled up at him. ‘You’re just in time for the party.’  
  
He received a blank look. ‘You know I’m going to pass.’  
  
‘I figured. That’s okay. Though I was really looking forward to dancing with you.’  
  
Nicky noticed the other’s hands tighten around Jeremy’s shoulders. Then he sighed. It sounded resigned, like how Aaron got when Nicky decided it was time for another hugging session.  
  
‘I don’t know why I even try,’ the other said.   
  
Giggling, Jeremy turned to Renee and Nicky again. ‘This is Jean, my partner.’  
  
Another tiny pang of hurt.   
But Nicky ignored it, and valiantly reached out his hand to introduce himself.  
  
✧  
  
After dinner, people started lighting candles all around the hall. Some were carrying logs for the giant fire in the middle.  
  
The flickering silhouettes of people walking around should be frightening, but it was actually kind of cozy.  
  
After nearly a decade, the oldest human ever made his way over to Renee and Nicky, who were sitting near the fire.  
  
‘Already forgotten the way?’ Nicky asked.  
  
‘I was lost,’ the other grumbled.  
  
‘No worries,’ Nicky said. ‘Happens to only the oldest of us.’  
  
Renee elbowed him in the side. Nicky yelped in pain, but Renee didn’t seem to care that she’d just given him a bruise.  
  
‘Look,’ she said quietly, nodding to a corner of the room where a few people were picking up guitars and violins. Nicky saw a few drums too.  
  
The musicians were all chatting excitedly with each other before deciding on a song and then…  
The music started.  
  
Lovely, upbeat tones filled the air.  
  
‘Woah,’ Nicky said in awe. ‘It’s been so long since I’ve heard music.’  
  
‘Really?’ Erik asked, sitting down beside him on the log.  
  
Okay, Nicky _could’ve_ moved to make more room, but honestly? He so didn’t want to.  
  
‘We have music every seventh day,’ Erik said. ‘As a tradition. But honestly, whenever someone feels like playing, they just do.’  
  
‘That sounds really nice,’ Renee said.  
  
‘It is.’  
  
Around them, people moved to their feet, grabbing hands of partners or friends or family as they started swaying to the music, bright smiles on their faces.   
  
The flickering flames scattered around the hall seemed to join in on the fun,  
the ceiling above looking like a constantly moving painting.  
  
Nicky watched it in awe.  
  
‘Do you see that?’ he asked excitedly.   
  
‘I do,’ Erik answered. His voice sounded lower than usual.  
  
Nicky looked at him, and felt his heart do a spin when he met Erik’s eyes.  
Because this heavenly man had already been looking at him.  
  
‘I’m going to talk to Jean,’ Renee said quietly. She leaned closer to Nicky and whispered, ‘Have fun.’  
  
It was too awkward to reply with Erik still watching him, eyes glinting, damn near sparkling as they reflected the light of a dozen flames.  
  
‘So…’ Nicky said awkwardly, clearing his throat. ‘Shouldn’t you be dancing with your, uh, wife?’  
  
He cringed at his choice of words.  
  
Erik blinked in surprise. Then he laughed. ‘I’d love to if she existed. Unfortunately, she doesn’t.’  
  
_Oh.  
_  
‘Oh,’ Nicky said. ‘She- She doesn’t?’  
  
‘Can I tell you a secret?’ Erik asked.  
  
Nicky nodded.  
  
Erik leaned in, and Nicky’s cheeks were _flaming_. He was sure they were out-burning even the fire in the room.  
  
Then, for one heavenly moment, their noses _nearly_ brushed.  
As Nicky was noticing  _very_ much.  
  
‘I’m one of those fools who wants to fall in love before they marry,’ Erik whispered.  
  
He smiled shyly at Nicky,  
who felt like this man couldn’t possibly be real.  
Or human.  
  
‘That’s not foolish,’ Nicky answered weakly.   
  
Erik leaned back and laughed a little awkwardly.  
It was very cute.  
  
‘What about you?’  
  
The question seemed to dance on the shadows of the walls.

Nicky dropped his gaze and watched the fire in front of them.  
The flames were almost hypnotic.  
  
‘That’s not really… for me,’ he said quietly. ‘I mean I wish I could… But I have my cousin to look after.’  
  
‘They’re young?’  
  
‘Oh, no.’ Nicky smiled. ‘He’s just... Lost.’  
  
‘That’s very kind of you,’ Erik said. Then. ‘But who’s keeping you from getting lost?’  
  
Nicky turned to him in surprise. 'I am.’  
  
Erik watched Nicky quietly for a few moments while the music continued its hopeful, upbeat sound.  
  
‘Why do I get the feeling you’re not looking after yourself the way you look after your cousin?’ Erik asked quietly.   
  
Nicky breathed in sharply.  
It seemed impossible that someone as beautiful as Erik was interested in how Nicky cared for himself.  
But he’d heard the words, despite the fact that they'd been quiet.  
  
Nicky opened his mouth, but for once, the words didn’t come.  
  
Erik blinked as he seemed to realise what he’d just said. ‘Oh, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have assumed.’  
  
‘No, it’s- You’re right,’ Nicky said, looking at the fire again.  
  
‘But… I think I made you uncomfortable.’   
  
Nicky smiled.  
It was effortless.  
  
‘Really, you didn’t.’  
  
The music changed to a softer sound, smoother, a song made for swaying and swirling around each other.  
A song for sweethearts.  
  
‘Uh,’ Erik said.  
  
Nicky turned to him again, but this time Erik wasn’t looking at him  
but at the dance floor.  
  
Feeling Nicky’s gaze on him, he turned around.  
Smiled sheepishly.  
  
‘Do you want to, uh, dance?’  
  
Heart lodged in his throat, Nicky still somehow managed to say, ‘Yes.’  
  
Smiling, Erik stood up, holding out his hand like he had when Nicky first entered the village.  
  
Again, he wasted no time in grasping the heavenly hand  
and let Erik pull him to the dancefloor.  
  
Their wrists touched as they started spinning around each other slowly.  
  
Staring into Erik’s eyes, Nicky was grateful that the music smoothed over every wild heartbeat inside his chest.  
  
They switched hands, holding up their left now, pressing their wrists together and swaying to the beat of the song, swaying to the beat of their pulses pressed against each other.  
  
Then Erik grabbed his hand, firmly, and spun him around.  
  
Nicky laughed and swirled and twirled,  
never once letting go of Erik’s hand.  
  
Or was it the other way around?  
  
The wonderfully melodic sound of Erik’s laughter filled Nicky’s world as they spun around each other,  
as Erik held him tight, stayed close,   
and looked at Nicky like he only now understood the meaning of _home_.  
  
✧  
  
The next morning, Jeremy greeted Nicky, Renee, and the old fart cheerfully. ‘Looks like you had fun yesterday.’  
  
He smiled at Nicky when he said this, who felt his cheeks heat up.  
  
‘It was a pretty great party,’ Nicky admitted.  
  
‘I’m glad. Jean was worried you might find our traditions too different,’ Jeremy laughed. ‘I still remember the first time he walked through those gates. He thought dancing was about the stupidest thing humans could do.’  
  
Renee smiled. ‘Glad he changed his mind.’  
  
‘Where is he?’ Nicky asked, looking around the hall.  
  
‘Ah.’ Jeremy coughed. ‘He’s already working.’  
  
‘Shame we missed him,’ Renee said. Then asked the question they had both been dreading to ask. ‘I was wondering if you could tell us how to reach the council.’  
  
As Jeremy answered the boring question, Nicky tuned out.   
He looked up at the high ceiling.  
It was impressive that _people_ managed to build something like this.  
  
‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ a warm voice said beside him.  
  
The smile on Nicky’s face felt effortless,  
and when he looked at Erik and said, _‘Yeah.’_ he sure didn’t mean the ceiling.   
  
‘It’s my favourite thing about this building,’ Erik said, also looking up. It gave Nicky the chance to stare at him. ‘It’s so high up. Makes you feel like you’re never going to reach the top. Just like the sky.’  
  
Nicky tore his gaze away from Erik’s beautiful face with great difficulty, and looked at the ceiling again.  
  
If you looked at it like that, it was even more impressive.  
  
Nicky marvelled at the structure of the roof. It was so different from the way the houses at his village were built.

‘I wish I could make something like this too,’ Nicky murmured. ‘Something that reaches the sky.’  
  
‘You’d need a really tall ladder,’ Erik joked.  
  
Nicky laughed. 'I guess I do.’  
  
‘We—’ Erik paused, eyes briefly flickering to Nicky before quickly looking at the ceiling again. ‘I could show you, when we start building another house.’  
  
Something warm filled Nicky’s chest and, for a second, he saw that future.  
  
How simple it would be to stay behind, in this warm house built for everyone,   
to stay with this person who looked like heaven.  
To build a house that would reach for the sky,  
and to maybe find something that Nicky would never find at home.  
  
Home.  
  
It couldn’t be here.  
He had Aaron, and Aaron had him.  
 _That_ was home, the house where Andrew—  
  
‘I don’t think that’s possible,’ Nicky said quietly.  
  
Beside him, Erik froze.  
Swallowed.  
Then he turned to look at Nicky.  
  
‘Take good care of yourself, okay?’ he said quietly.  
  
Oh, no, this wasn’t fair.  
  
Nicky wanted to look into Erik’s eyes forever, and then some,  
but he felt a stinging pain in his chest,  
and a stinging pain in his eyes, and he so didn’t want to cry in front of Erik.  
  
He turned away.   
  
Renee was watching him.  
Waiting for him.  
  
‘We can meet the council,’  she said quietly.  
  
Nicky nodded.  
He turned back to Erik for just one more second, wanting to believe in that future for just one more breath.  
  
Erik looked at him,  
the way you did when you started understanding what _home_ meant.  
  
‘Thank you for the dances,’ Nicky said, voice thick. ‘I had fun.’ _For the first time in years._  
  
Erik waved away his words, because he didn't have any himself, then stepped closer.  
  
He briefly wrapped his arms around Nicky.  
The hug was so warm.  
Ignoring the thundering beat of his heart, Nicky put his arms around Erik too.  
  
It really was goodbye.  
  
✧

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; It was late at night, when the screams started. 
> 
> I'M SO CURIOUS! Hihi, sorry, you don't have to comment at all, but I'm very curious what you thought about this <3  
> I wrote this to give more plot but then of course Nicky is more interested in other things than the plot.  
> Hihi. It be like that sometimes. You just meet a god. 
> 
> Thank you for reading <3 <3 !


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> Whew it sure is warm outside. You know, in the Netherlands, we have a saying that if you sneeze three times the weather's going to be great but uhhh.  
> This is a little TOO great maybe. 
> 
> (also it is kind of intense when people hear you sneeze twice and then stare at you and are like "ONCE MORE")
> 
> Anyways, enjoy this enormous chapter!!

It was late at night when the screams started.  
  
Neil woke up with a gasp, shooting upright and immediately scrambling out of bed. He saw flickering lights coming through the windows downstairs. Without thinking, he climbed down the ladder and ran to the windows to get a better look.  
  
He saw torches,  
and smoke rising in the air.  
It made it hard to see what was actually going on. Made Neil's hands itch to grab his cloak, but he didn’t dare risk his father’s anger again.  
  
People were running past the windows, and Neil put his ear against the glass, leaning in, straining to hear what they were shouting.  
  
He could make out the words _fire_ and  
_witch_ ,  
and a horrible dread filled his body as he started to make sense of what he was seeing.  
  
‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ his father said from close behind.  
  
Neil jumped, banging his head against the window in shock. He quickly turned around. ‘What’s happening?’  
  
Flames reflected in his father’s ice blue eyes, colouring them a dangerous, flickering red. His father smiled slowly, and for once, he was the one to break their eye contact as he looked out the window.  
  
‘The purging.’  
  
_Allison. Aaron.  
  
_ Without waiting for permission, Neil burst out the front door and onto the cold streets. He took in a few quick, cold breaths before running towards the bakery.  
  
There was no fire,  
but Neil wasn’t convinced.  
He threw open the door and burst through the shop into the room beyond.  
  
Aaron immediately shot up in bed,  
holding a knife in his left hand.  
  
When he saw it was Neil, he lowered it slightly.  
But only slightly.  
  
‘What the _fuck_ are you doing here?’ Aaron exclaimed.  
  
‘Where’s Allison?’ Neil asked immediately, stalking towards the beds, looking behind the pale blue fabric.   
  
Aaron pulled his blanket closer around himself. ‘Do you _mind_?!’  
  
‘I don’t,’ Neil said, and looked briefly down at him. ‘Are you okay?’  
  
‘No, I’m _not_ okay with you standing in my fucking bedroom. Get the fuck out!’  
  
Neil turned around, letting the fabric fall behind him. ‘I meant, did they find out you’re a witch?’  
  
That shut Aaron up.  
  
And for a second or two, it was quiet in the house.  
  
Until another scream from outside rang through the air.  
  
‘What the fuck?’ Aaron breathed. ‘What’s happening?’  
  
‘The purge.’  
  
Blankets rustled behind Neil, and then Aaron was standing in front of him.   
It was the first time he wasn’t glaring at Neil.  
  
‘What do you mean?’  
  
‘It means they’re going after witches. After magic,’ Neil explained. The next words felt thick and difficult, and he had to force himself to say them. ‘... With fire.’  
  
‘Is that why you came running to me instead?’ Aaron sneered.  
  
Neil tensed.  
_How_ —  
  
‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed all those burns on your body.’  
  
Neil’s left hand twitched.  
From fear.  
Maybe anger.  
  
‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed your tears,’ Neil said. ‘At least I’m not being a dick about them.’  
  
‘I’m just telling the truth. If you don’t like it, you can go.’  
  
‘Fine,’ Neil said. ‘I won’t look after you again.’  
  
‘Never needed it anyway.’  
  
‘You’re too much alike for your own good,’ Neil muttered angrily.  
  
‘ _What_?’ Aaron snapped. ‘Are you talking about my dead twin, you dumb fuck?’  
  
And Neil snapped.  
  
The anger felt hot, like a glowing knife slicing into his skin.  
  
‘I might be stupid but at least I’m not blind,’ he spat. ‘You’re too busy crying your eyes out to look past your angry tears and see what’s actually happening. Was that what happened with Andrew too? Did you suck the life out of him like you’re doing with Nicky now? Denying him a life just because you can’t get yours together. Grow up, Aaron. Take care of your shit. You say you miss Andrew, but you’re not even—’  
  
Aaron punched him.  
  
Neil stumbled back and automatically held up his arms to block Aaron’s next hit, but Aaron was fast and smart. He quickly ducked under Neil’s arms and hit him hard in the stomach.  
  
Neil doubled over and gasped for air, but before Aaron could hit him again, he ran forward and tackled him.   
  
They fell to the ground.  
Immediately, Aaron started hitting whatever he could reach.  
  
‘Don’t fucking talk like that, you dumb shit!’ Aaron shouted, legs kicking Neil hard on the back, fists punching him in the chest. Neil struggled to pin his wrists to the ground.  
  
‘You don’t fucking know what it’s like to live without him!’ Aaron screamed.  
  
No.  
But just the thought hurt enough that Neil could imagine.  
  
Sensing his brief distraction, Aaron used it to punch him in the face again. This time, Neil didn’t think about blocking. He just swung his fist and punched back.  
  
His fist hit Aaron’s jaw with a satisfying crunch.  
  
Aaron screamed bloody murder, cursing Neil over and over, but then his struggles finally started to slow down.

And Neil saw them.  
The tears streaming down Aaron’s face  
as Aaron finally stopped fighting.  
  
Neil leaned back, panting heavily.  
He looked down at Aaron, who was digging his hands into his eyes and crying soundlessly.  
  
‘F-fuck… you..’ Aaron hiccuped.  
  
‘You need to keep yourself safe,’ Neil said flatly.  
  
‘Fuck-k you..’  
  
‘No thanks.’  
  
With a sound somewhere between disgust and a sob, Aaron shoved Neil off.   
  
Instead of staying on the floor, Neil stood up, then listened for any sounds.  
But the screams outside had quieted down.  
Now, the only sounds were Aaron desperately trying to regain his composure.  
Trying to control his breathing.  
  
Neil knew he had to see what had happened outside, and for a second, he debated leaving Aaron on the floor.   
But those shuddering gasps sounded too familiar,  
and those shaking hands looked too real,  
so Neil held out his hand and said, ‘Get up.’  
  
Aaron glared at him. ‘Why?’  
  
‘We’re going to see what happened.’  
  
Shoving Neil’s arm out of the way, Aaron pushed himself to his feet and walked to the door, reaching for his cloak.   
  
Without another word, they left the bakery.  
  
☽  
  
Burned furniture was lying on the ground, smoke curling into the air where the fire had only just been put out.   
  
It was almost like following a trail,  
the pieces scattered throughout the village, leading to the main square.  
  
A family was huddled together.  
Arms put around each other, staring up in fear as a few of his father’s men walked towards them with grins on their faces, and knives and hammers in their hands. Neil recognized one of them as Lola’s brother. Romero.  
  
‘You got anything else to hide, huh?’ Romero asked the cowering family. ‘Any filthy magic?’  
  
‘N-no! We swear!’ the woman exclaimed, pressing her sobbing son closer to her body.  
  
‘That so? So you never went to a healer, huh?’  
  
‘B-but those aren’t magic…’ the man said shakily.  
  
Romero spread his arms, and looked at the scared people gathered around them. ‘You hear that folks?’  
  
He started laughing.  
The other guys joined in.  
  
‘Not magic... No, no, you don’t understand,’ Romero said, voice suddenly serious again. ‘Healers use magic now. New rules.’  
  
Neil bet anything that Romero had visited a healer more than once.  
  
Beside him, Aaron sneered quietly, ‘Fucking hypocrite.’  
  
‘You all hear that?!’ Romero shouted, walking around, jabbing men and women in the chest. ‘Healers are _heathens_. They use fucking magic.’ He stopped in front of the family again. ‘Whoever visits a healer won’t like it.’  
  
‘Maybe you should show ‘em,’ one of the others, Jackson, said to Romero.  
  
Romero smiled,  
and it reminded Neil too much of Lola.  
  
‘You’re right. I should.’  
  
Swinging his hammer around, Romero took slow steps closer to the shaking family on the ground.  
  
Neil’s body tensed.  
Beside him, Aaron was quiet.  
  
Finally, Romero stopped in front of the man,  
stopped swinging his hammer, and let it rest on his shoulders.  
  
‘Here’s a lesson for you, folks,’ Romero said softly.  
  
And then he swung his hammer at the man’s head.  
  
☽  
  
His father’s voice boomed through the house,  
leaving Neil shaking in bed.  
  
‘You keep him in line, you hear me!’  
  
‘You never specified,’ Lola said casually.  
  
‘Let me fucking _specify_ for you now,’ his father hissed, voice low and threatening. Almost a growl. Neil closed his eyes and pretended he wasn’t here, but then his father boomed, ‘You _only_ kill magic!’    
  
Immediately, the memory, the images, returned.  
The sickening crunch, the wet sounds, and  
so  
much  
_red_.  
  
Then,  
the screams.  
  
Neil’s stomach turned, twisted violently like the scars on his back. He tried to block out the thoughts by pressing his hands against his eyes, but red bloomed across his vision like it had on the snow.  
  
‘Yeah, okay. I know that now,’ Lola said boredly.  
  
☽  
  
There was no surprised look, no teasing or asking why he was visiting.  
  
Allison looked at Neil for a few seconds, then turned her back to him.  
A heavy sigh made her shoulders hunch forward, and she suddenly looked younger. Too young to be carrying around all these secrets Neil had no idea about.  
  
He’d always thought they were sex related.  
Now he knew they weren’t.  
  
‘What should we do?’ Neil asked.  
  
Allison’s voice sounded distant, but the scars on her neck looked startlingly real when she looked over her shoulder.  
  
‘We run, or we fight.’  
  
☽  
  
The day didn’t seem any different than before. There was still a blazing fire in the house, and Neil still couldn’t breathe until he was outside.  
  
It was nearing sunset,  
and less and less people were walking around on the streets.  
  
As Neil walked past them, they turned away their gazes and faces. There was a shake in their hands and legs,  
and there was _red_ in their eyes,  
the red of a family being ripped apart.  
  
Darkness quickly settled over the village like a heavy, suffocating hand.  
  
Neil felt like the house didn’t stop at the front door anymore.  
Because his father’s people, Romero, Jackson, and the rest, were now walking through the streets, swinging around their hammers and twirling their knives.  
  
The feeling of being _watched_ , of being _controlled_ was so strong that Neil felt his breath coming in short, painful gasps.  
  
He pressed himself against the dark wood of one of the houses, put his palms against the cold walls and closed his eyes for a second.  
  
_Breathe._  
  
When he opened them again, he saw his father’s men peer through the windows of a house before knocking loudly.  
  
Neil could hear screaming inside.  
  
Romero snickered, then pressed his face against the glass and yelled, ‘You can scream, but we'll still find you witches!’  
  
‘Open the door!’ another shouted.  
  
More screams, more loud knocking.  
  
‘Ehh,’ Romero said, leaning back. ‘Let’s just bust the window.’  
  
Before Neil could even think about stopping them, Romero’s hammer shattered the glass with an ear splintering _crack_.  
  
‘Stop stop stop!’ a woman screamed, moving to the window, holding up her hands. ‘We’ll let you in!’  
  
‘Oh, now she’s willing.’ Romero laughed. ‘Let’s go boys. Let’s see if there’s more magic to burn.’  
  
The word, said with a grin, echoed through Neil’s mind, and his left hand twitched uncontrollably.  
  
The urge to run, to find the cold and the absence of fear and fire,  
was so big that he didn’t stay to make sure there wouldn’t be another murder.  
He just ran.  
  
Neil ran into the woods.  
  
☽  
  
But his breaths didn’t feel any easier in the darkening woods.  
  
His thoughts were filled with _red_ and screams and his hands were twitching and shaking.  
  
_Crunch_ said the leaves next to him, and Neil whirled around, eyes wide, shouting, ‘Who’s there?’  
  
When the smoke of his breath cleared away, Andrew came into view, standing between the dark trees, his expression calm.

‘I shouldn’t—I should’ve stayed, should’ve checked—’ Neil stammered, his heart hammering inside his chest, his breath coming in short bursts. ‘Why did I—why do I run?’ His voice grew in volume. ‘Why do I _always_ run?’  
  
Andrew moved closer, _crunching_ leaves underneath his boots.   
  
The sound made Neil flinch, and he held up a shaking hand.  
  
Andrew immediately stopped.  
  
And Neil’s eyes shot to his raised hand,   
to the scars across his skin and the memories that came with them.  
They were an answer, even if he couldn’t say it out loud.  
  
_Run, or fight_.  
  
_Run, always.  
  
_ A gust of cold wind blew through the forest,  
producing a yearning, howling sound.  
Neil shivered.  
  
‘I don’t want to run,’ he said quietly.  
  
‘Then don’t.’  
  
Lowering his hand, the scars, _the memories_ , Neil looked at Andrew. ‘Will you do the same?’  
  
From the brief look of dread, of irritation, in Andrew’s eyes, Neil saw that Andrew understood what he was asking.  
  
Taking a chance, and not once taking his eyes off of Andrew,  
Neil held out his hand.  
  
Without a word, Andrew closed the distance between them  
until Neil’s hand was just shy of touching Andrew's stomach.   
  
Andrew took a deep breath, his chest expanding.  
His body briefly touching Neil’s fingertips.  
  
When he exhaled, he said, ‘Okay.’  
  
☽  
  
Andrew’s hand felt warm in his.  
  
Neil stared at their hands,  
held between their bodies as Andrew took the lead.  
  
He stared at the burned skin.  
  
Underneath their hands, the forest ground changed from white snow to green grass, to pale green leaves and dark green moss.  
  
Neil slowed down.  
He wondered how the dark green would feel.  
  
Andrew turned to him, looking for what made him pause, and without a word, Neil crouched down and touched the moss.  
It was slightly damp, and mostly soft.  
It didn’t tickle.  
  
‘It’s been so long since I’ve seen this,’ he said.  
  
When he pulled away his hand, it was a little wet, and some dirt stuck to his skin.  
He brushed it off against Andrew’s arm.  
  
Andrew stared at him.  
  
Then he crouched down, patted his hand over the moss, and stood back up with his palm raised.   
  
Neil held out his arm and laughed when Andrew wiped the dirt and moss over his skin.  
  
Not breaking eye contact, Neil reached down again. He dug his fingers in the soft and damp moss before moving closer to Andrew.   
  
Andrew was watching him intensely, eyes focused on Neil,  
and Neil alone.  
  
It sent shivers down Neil's spine.

Reaching out, his fingers stopped just short of Andrew’s neck, waiting.  
  
And Andrew watched him for a breath or two,  
before slowly tilting his neck to the side, giving him access.  
  
Neil dragged his dirt-stained fingers over his throat.  
  
He saw goosebumps raise on Andrew’s skin, from the cold probably, until he remembered Andrew didn’t feel the cold as much.  
  
This time, the heat wasn’t hot and burning.  
This time, it started in his chest, the warmth spreading through his stomach,  
and _lower_ ,  
the heat tingling slightly.  
  
Neil’s breath caught in his throat when Andrew reached out and cupped the back of his neck,  
pulled him closer with a gentle touch.  
  
Using his dirt and moss flecked finger, Andrew trailed over Neil’s lips,  
who smiled at the weird, smooth and yet not so smooth feeling.  
  
‘Always wanted to taste dirt,’ he laughed.  
  
‘Don’t swallow it.’  
  
Neil let out another laugh, one that burst from his chest and made the warmth spread through his arms and legs until his whole body was thrumming.  
  
‘Now that I already have a dirty mouth…’ Neil grinned. ‘Kiss me.’  
  
Andrew’s eyes flashed briefly before he leaned in  
and pressed their lips together, kissing Neil until the dirt was wiped away.  
  
When their tongues met, tangled, stroked,  
Neil wasn’t sure he didn’t swallow some of the dirt.  
  
☽  
  
‘That took longer than I expected,’ Bee said when they finally arrived at her little brick house. Neil saw her eye the dirt streaks over Andrew’s neck.  
  
‘We ran into some moss,’ Andrew said matter-of-factly.  
  
Neil bit his lip to keep from laughing.

‘Mhm,’ Bee hummed, but she seemed unconvinced. ‘Moss can be very distracting. But nevermind me. To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit?’  
  
‘I want Aaron and Nicky to live here for a while. If you approve,’ Andrew said.  
  
To Bee’s credit, she only blinked twice before asking calmly, ‘Not a problem. Can I know why?’  
  
Andrew looked over to Neil, who got the hint.   
  
‘My father has started the purging of magic in the village. They’re searching the houses, burning and killing whatever is tied to magic.’  
  
Bee’s hand flew to her mouth in shock. 'Oh gods, are the people okay?’  
  
‘No,’ Neil answered honestly.  
  
‘Oh my— Yes. Yes, of course your family can come live here. Do you have family that needs moving too?’  
  
Bee was looking at Neil, so her question must’ve been aimed at him, but he had no idea how to answer.  
  
‘My father…’ he trailed off.  
  
‘There’s more to family than blood,’ Andrew said flatly.  
  
Neil dropped his gaze to the ground.  
In his family, that was all there was.  
Blood.  
Burns.  
Beating out the stupid.  
  
Neil swallowed. ‘Maybe Allison,’ he said finally. ‘But I don’t think she’d want to.’  
  
‘Ask her anyway,’ Bee said. ‘She can always say no.’  
  
That concept was still strange to Neil,  
but he nodded nevertheless.  
  
☽  
  
The cold air was for once an unwelcome presence as they crossed the invisible border, as they passed the turning tree again.  
  
The air was dark now, the stars pinpricks of light that stared down at them.   
Neil didn’t feel seen by them.

But he could feel Andrew’s eyes on his back, staring at him in the dark.  
  
‘What do I do when Aaron doesn’t trust me enough? If he doesn’t want to come to the woods?’ Neil asked the darkness.  
  
‘We’re not giving him a chance,’ was the answer.  
  
Looking over his shoulder, Neil saw something bronze flash in the darkness, brighter than the stars ever could.  
  
He didn’t really understand what Andrew meant.  
  
‘He doesn’t get a chance?’  
  
‘No,’ Andrew replied. ‘But he gets a choice.’  
  
Leaves _crunched_ underneath their boots as they walked through the woods in silence.  
  
Once, Neil would’ve needed the moonlight,  
would’ve needed to walk slower, be more careful.  
  
Now, the woods were no longer a place he only ran through.  
They were a place he knew like the back of his burned hand,  
a place he could walk into blindly,  
trusting it to not let him fall.  
  
They were a place he wanted to stay.  
  
Neil knew they reached the edge of the forest when he saw fires burning too brightly in the distance.  
  
He hesitated.  
He didn’t want to face the village alone.  
Or maybe he didn’t want to leave Andrew behind.  
Maybe both.  
  
But while Neil had stopped, Andrew continued walking, his silhouette growing more visible, more solid, as he left the woods and entered the village.  
  
‘What are you doing?’ Neil asked quietly.  
  
Andrew turned around.  
Behind him, the village was a dark, threatening thing, the orange light from the fires glowing around him.  
  
Neil thought he could’ve looked like fire.  
Instead, Andrew looked like the setting sun.  
  
‘We’re going to visit Aaron,’ Andrew said flatly.  
  
‘My father’s men are in the village,’ Neil said. ‘Do you think it’s safe?’  
  
‘No.’  
  
The word hung in the air between them,   
hung between the village and the woods.  
  
Neil nodded,  
and for the first time,  
followed Andrew out of the forest.  
  
The first few houses were further apart, and looked almost deserted, no fire burning inside. Neil knew it was because the people were poor, and didn’t have enough wood to keep themselves warm.  
  
They passed more dark houses until finally, fires were starting to burn as they entered the heart of the village. The streets were narrower here, and it was harder to keep an eye out for shadows.  
  
Neil could hear voices shouting, yelling, laughing,  
but they sounded far away.  
  
Staying low, taking care not to make too much sound, Neil followed Andrew through the narrow alleys, continuously looking behind to see if anyone was following them.  
  
Another shout suddenly pierced through the night.  
  
Neil jumped and looked back nervously,  
forgetting to focus on where he was actually going.  
  
He bumped against Andrew’s back.  
  
Andrew staggered forward just one step, just one, but—  
His foot slid on the ice and mud, and he accidentally kicked against what looked like the broken leg of a chair.  
  
It flew away and banged against the wall of the house beside them.  
  
The shouting stopped.  
  
Fear grabbed hold of Neil’s ankles his calves slithering up his legs  
to grasp his heart.  
Standing frozen in place, he stared wide-eyed at Andrew’s back.  
  
There was silence for just a second or two,  
before a soft thudding sound was getting closer, was making its way towards them.  
Footsteps.  
  
‘Do we run?’ Neil breathed.  
  
_Yes_ replied his body,  
replied the tension in his legs.  
  
But Andrew turned around and quickly clasped his hand over Neil’s mouth, pushing him further into the alley, into the darkness, until Neil's back hit the wall.  
  
Andrew’s eyes flashed in the darkness, staring straight at him.  
Almost through him.  
  
‘We stay.’  
  
Neil’s breath left him in an almost relieved sigh.  
He nodded.  
  
The footsteps sounded closer now, and they could hear Romero whisper against his men to check out the houses.  
Definitely getting too close, if they could make out their whispers.  
  
Heart pounding wildly, Neil felt the fear reach his throat,  
felt the fear start _squeezing_ until he was sure he couldn’t breathe could never breathe again  
because his father’s men were going to find them, and they were going to use their hammers, they were going to use fire to burn away everything Neil had left.  
  
His left hand twitched against the cold wall.  
He tried to flatten it against the wood, needing the comforting feeling, but his thoughts were already returning to the fire to the red to the _burning_.  
  
Something pressed him harder against the wall.  
  
Startled, Neil opened his eyes.  
He was unaware he’d closed them.  
  
Andrew was standing very close, staring intensely at Neil, his body crowding him against the wall.  
  
When their eyes met, Andrew carefully took his hand away from Neil's mouth.  
  
Neil took a struggling breath that sounded too loud.  
  
The slow footsteps to their left  
paused.  
  
Neil’s eyes darted back to Andrew,  
feeling the panic rise in his chest again, growing and growing and pushing out all other feelings.  
  
Every exhale sounded too loud,  
every inhale shuddered  
and sputtered  
like a dying flame.  
  
And Neil couldn’t get his breathing under control, he couldn’t stay quiet, they were going to be discovere—  
  
Andrew gripped his chin tightly and forced Neil to look at him.  
He leaned in close and bumped their forehead together, crowding even more into Neil’s personal space until it wasn’t _his_   anymore.  
  
Until it was _their space_.  
  
Neil was no longer breathing in the cold, threatening night air,  
but Andrew’s warm, steady breaths instead.  
  
It was dizzying.  
  
As he stared into Andrew’s eyes,  
he felt caught.  
  
There was no point to run.  
  
So he gave in.  
  
Tilting his head back until it hit the wall, Neil exposed his neck to Andrew.  
  
Andrew didn’t move, but his jaw clenched as he stared and stared and stared at Neil’s neck.  
  
But Neil needed the air around him to be filled with Andrew so he reached out,   
hands carding through Andrew’s hair and pulling him closer.  
  
Andrew’s warm breath brushed against his neck, and a small shiver ran through Neil’s body.  
Before he could gasp out loud,  
warm lips pressed against his cold neck  
and stole away all his air.  
  
Neil tightened his hold on Andrew, grabbing just too tight, but Andrew’s lips dragging over his skin were maybe just too hot, and when Andrew’s mouth opened  
and _teeth_ dragged over Neil’s neck,  
it was maybe just too rough.  
  
The different sensations made Neil feel dizzy, made his legs feel weak,  
and he stared unseeingly at the night sky, lost in the touches,  
his body starting to heat up.  
  
Andrew grabbed his hips tightly, his nails maybe too sharp as they pricked through Neil’s clothes, and dragged over his skin.  
  
The heat, the warmth—  
It burned wherever Andrew touched him, and it was overwhelming,  
and it was overwhelmingly good.  
  
Tugging at Andrew’s hair, Neil pulled him up again and away from his throat.  
Pulled him towards his lips.  
  
A short look passed between them, a _heated_ look, and Andrew knew what Neil wanted.  
He immediately smashed their lips together, prying Neil’s mouth open with his tongue and tasting  
probably fear and arousal.  
  
And yet it still didn’t feel close enough to Neil.  
  
He wound his arms tightly around Andrew’s shoulders, pulling him even closer closer _closer  
_ and when Andrew did, _finally_ , Neil was suddenly aware of the heat pressing against him.  
  
For a quiet breath or two, Neil was unsure what he wanted.  
  
Was it too warm?  
  
But he was just as hard  
and it was, maybe, too late for thinking.  
  
So Neil let himself feel.  
  
He shifted his hips and pressed their erections together and everything  
stilled  
for a second.  
  
Andrew breathed out hotly,  
a heady breath that Neil breathed in.  
  
He shifted his hips again.  
  
Andrew’s nails pierced through Neil’s skin and his hold on Neil’s hips tightened before he pushed him back, against the wall, holding him in place.  
  
‘I can’t-’ Andrew said, voice more a growl than a whisper.  
  
‘I don’t mind the pain,’ Neil breathed, leaning in, brushing his lips over Andrew’s lips.  
  
‘I do.’  
  
A different kind of warmth spread through Neil’s chest, and it was a heady, giddy feeling, a feeling that made Neil want to wrap his arms around Andrew, that made him want to leave the village behind, that made him lean even closer, dragging his tongue against Andrew’s bottom lip and whispering, ‘Mark me as yours.’  
  
Andrew’s eyes flashed,  
and his features looked more wolf than human.  
  
And then he was on Neil, slamming him back into the wall, immediately pressing their bodies together, pulling him closer, hand roaming over Neil’s ruined back.

The touches nearly made Neil lose his mind.  
  
Their hips were moving together now,  
and Neil’s breaths were choked off gasps,  
as he was seeing stars without looking at the sky.  
  
Andrew’s mouth moved over neck, his teeth sharp and almost painful in the way they pushed at Neil’s skin.  
Pushed  
but not breaking.  
  
‘Mark… m-’ Neil gasped, but Andrew put a finger against his mouth, and leaned closer to his ear.   
  
‘You’re not mine,’ Andrew growled.  
  
Instantly,  
Neil felt too warm  
too hot  
his skin crawling unpleasantly as he felt uncomfortable at the thought that perhaps,  
possibly,  
probably,  
Andrew hadn’t felt the same warmth.  
  
Figured.  
Neil was, and always had been, too stupid to notice things.  
  
‘Hey!’ someone shouted, just a street from where they were standing, making both Neil and Andrew tense. ‘What are you doing there?’  
  
‘Nothing, sir, I swear! Just... getting home,’ another voice answered.  
  
Neil’s eyes widened.  
  
He looked in shock at Andrew, whose head was tilted, listening intensely.  
  
‘Yeah?’  Neil recognised Romero’s jaunting voice. ‘You the one who’s been walking around here?’  
  
‘Uh, yeah, must be? I mean, that’s how I get home, you know. Walking.’  
  
Silence.  
Shuffling of feet.  
  
‘You trying to be funny?’ Romero asked in a low voice.  
  
‘Just trying to get home, sir,’ Nicky answered.  
  
‘Fuck off then.’  
  
‘Yup. On it!’  
  
Neil sighed in relief as he heard Nicky walk away safely, as he heard Romero shout to his men that it was a false alarm. As he heard them move to another part of the village.  
  
‘Nicky’s home,’ Neil breathed.  
  
Andrew pushed himself off of Neil, taking a few steps back,  
giving Neil back his personal space.  
  
He didn’t really want it.  
  
But he never got what he wanted anyway.  
  
Neil started walking in the direction of the bakery.  
  
‘Neil,’ Andrew said.  
  
But Neil didn’t think he could continue if he stopped,   
so he forced himself to keep walking, to keep running, running, running.  
  
☽

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; ‘Neil?’ The door to the main room opened, and Nicky stuck his head out in disbelief. ‘What are you doing here?’
> 
> I'm sorry I didn't know what my mind was thinking  
> i swear I don't find moss that attractive
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING <3 <3  
> And let me know what you thought, if you want :D


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> I hope your week is going great so far OH GOSH THE HOUSE PHONE JUST WENT I HAVEN'T ANSWERED A HOUSE PHONE IN AGES?? WHAT DO I DO  
> oh it's grandma
> 
> OKAY.  
> It's all good, everything's okay, the phone only startled a few years off my life.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

  
Neil must’ve pushed the door open a minute after Nicky arrived, because he heard Aaron shout defensively, ‘It was nothing!’  
  
‘That doesn’t look like nothing!’ Nicky exclaimed. He sounded concerned.  
  
‘Nicky,’ Neil called out after the little bell rinkled.  
  
‘Neil?’ The door to the main room opened, and Nicky stuck his head out in disbelief. ‘What are you doing here?’  
  
‘Fucking déjà vu,’ Aaron muttered behind him.  
  
Neil took a deep breath. ‘I want to talk to you.’  
  
Then he walked into the bakery, holding the door open for them to see who was behind him.  
  
He could see the exact moment they saw Andrew behind him.  
Their faces turned white from shock.  
  
‘I—what?’ Nicky asked faintly.  
  
Behind Nicky, Aaron was staring and staring and staring and not believing.  
  
Then he shook his head slowly.  
  
‘Can we talk inside?’ Andrew said, breaking the tense silence  
and apparently snapping something inside Aaron.  
  
A strangled sound, like a sob, escaped him, and then Aaron was running towards Andrew and hitting him with everything he got.   
Hitting him on the chest, his shoulders, his stomach.  
  
But it didn’t look like he was trying to hurt Andrew.  
More like _he_ was hurting.

‘What _the fuck_ ,’ Aaron snarled, tears streaming over his cheeks. ‘What— Fuck—’ His voice broke off on an angry sob.  
  
Andrew allowed this to continue for a minute before he caught Aaron’s wrist and pushed him away.  
  
‘Inside,’ he said, nodding to the main room.  
  
‘Andrew,’ Nicky said faintly, still staring at Andrew like he was a ghost.  
  
But Andrew didn’t respond, walking past them into the main room.  
  
For a second, no one moved.  
Nicky was staring at the space Andrew had just inhabited like he’d imagined it after all,  
while Aaron wiped angrily at his face, trying in vain to stop his tears.  
  
It was Neil who followed first.  
  
As soon as Nicky closed the door to the bakery, Andrew started explaining. ‘It’s not safe here. You can live with me and Bee in the woods.’  
  
Both Nicky and Aaron were silent.  
They stared at Andrew in confusion and disbelief.  
  
Finally, Nicky broke the silence, but his voice was a thin, fragile sound. ‘Why didn’t you let us know you were alive?’  
  
‘You didn’t need to know.’  
  
Nicky looked like he’d been slapped.  
  
Aaron just looked angry.  
  
‘It’s safer at Bee’s house,’ Neil added.  
  
When Aaron’s glare snapped to him,   
Neil knew he’d made a mistake.  
  
‘You _knew_ ,’ Aaron hissed. ‘You fucking _knew_ and you didn’t tell me!’  
  
‘Yes,’ Neil said.  
  
‘I’m going to kill you,’ Aaron threatened, taking a step closer, fists clenching and unclenching in anticipation now that he’d found a good outlet for his anger.  
  
Neil’s body froze.  
He quickly looked away from Aaron’s eyes, focusing on his shoulders instead.  
  
‘It wasn’t my secret to tell,’ he replied quietly.  
  
‘Fuck that!’ Aaron shouted, quickly closing the distance between them. He grabbed Neil by his shirt and hauled him down, while drawing back his fist.  
  
Neil shut his eyes,   
anticipating the pain.  
  
But the hit never came.  
  
Nicky was holding Aaron tightly,  
was already pulling him back,  
even though Aaron’s fist was still curled into Neil’s shirt.  
  
Aaron struggled to get to Neil again.  
  
But then Andrew reached out  
and pried Aaron’s hand away.  
  
Andrew smoothed Neil’s shirt over, hand pressing warmly against Neil’s chest and making his heart skip a beat,  
before Andrew dropped his hand again.  
  
‘Safe?’ Nicky asked, pushing Aaron behind him. Aaron crossed his arms and silently glared at Neil. ‘Does this have something to do with those men outside?’  
  
‘My father calls it the purging,’ Neil said.  
  
Nicky paled.  
  
‘Yeah, okay, we’ll go,’ he said weakly.   
  
‘ _What_?’ Aaron asked angrily.  
  
‘We’ll go with you,’ Nicky said, ignoring Aaron.  
  
Andrew nodded, and made for the door again, but Aaron immediately ran after him. ‘Wait a fucking second!’  
  
Andrew’s eyes flashed bronze as he turned around, growling at Aaron.  
A warning.  
  
Aaron flinched back in shock.  
  
Neil noticed that aside from still looking a little pale, Nicky seemed to be totally caught up in his thoughts.  
  
‘What happened at the village near the river?’ he asked.  
  
The question got a more physical reaction from Nicky than Andrew’s growl had done.  
  
Nicky winced, and his mouth tightened before he turned to Neil with a guarded look in his eyes.  
Until his gaze flickered to Neil's neck.  
  
‘What happened to your neck?’   
  
_What?_  
Neil reached up, but he didn’t feel any wounds.  
  
‘Gross,’ Aaron commented.  
  
Bringing his hand up to his face, Neil searched for blood, for _red_ , but he saw nothing.  
His fingers were unmarked.  
Clean.  
  
Suddenly, the door to the bakery shut with a bang, startling Neil out of his thoughts.  
  
‘What’s on my neck?’ he asked Nicky.  
  
Nicky’s smile was sad.  
  
‘Bruises.’  
  
Neil looked back at his hand, at his pale fingers.  
They were unmarked.  
But his neck wasn’t.  
  
_Mark me as yours.  
  
__You’re not mine.  
  
_ Neil ran after Andrew.  
  
☽  
  
Ran after him all the way to the edge of the village,  
the beginning of the woods.  
  
_Crunch_ said the leaves underneath Andrew’s feet, as he crossed the border again.  
  
‘Andrew,’ Neil said quietly.  
  
Andrew stopped.  
  
Neil reached up to touch his neck again.  
Though he couldn’t see the bruises, he could still feel Andrew’s breath on his skin.  
  
‘Do I smell like you?’ Neil asked.  
  
A cold wind brushed past them, tickling the hair on the back of Neil's neck and making him shiver.  
  
The moon above shone down brightly on the earth,  
though Neil didn’t need its light to see.  
  
Because when Andrew turned around,  
his eyes were flashing.  
  
‘Every inch of you,’ he answered.  
  
☽  
  
The next morning, the heat of the house didn't feel as oppressive as it used to.  
  
It was still hard to breathe,  
but then Neil remembered how he’d traded air for kisses.  
How he'd traded air to get even closer to Andrew.  
  
The heat still made him sweat, but the sheen over his skin felt like hot, open-mouthed kisses.  
  
Neil dragged his fingers through his hair   
and over his neck.  
  
Marked.  
  
He couldn’t feel the bruises,  
and when he pressed his fingers harder into his skin, they didn’t even hurt.  
  
It was the first time he’d been marked without feeling pain.  
Without it leaving a lasting trace on his body.  
  
And suddenly, the idea of the marks leaving  
made him feel uncomfortable.  
  
Neil sat up in bed.  
  
No, it wasn’t the marks disappearing that made him uncomfortable.  
  
He tilted his head, listening intently.  
  
The house was too quiet.  
  
Holding his breath, Neil slowly climbed down the ladder, the creaking wood too loud in his ears. His hands almost slipped as he grasped the sports. He was sweating more now.  
  
As soon as his feet touched the floor, Neil turned around and put his back against the ladder, searching the main room for anything suspicious.  
  
The table was clean,  
the chairs were pushed back neatly,  
and the fireplace was, as always, burning hotly.  
  
Neil couldn’t see his father anywhere.  
  
A floorboard creaked.  
  
Neil’s heart rate shot up.  
He quickly turned towards the kitchen.  
  
His father was leaning against the wall next to the backdoor, his arms crossed, his mouth curved in a smile.  
  
‘Good morning, son.’  
  
Neil dropped his gaze to his father’s arms.  
  
‘Good morning,’ he replied.  
  
Pushing himself off the wall, his father took slow, careful steps towards Neil,  
like he was afraid of startling him.  
  
Neil forced himself to take another calm breath.  
  
‘Are you getting sick?’ his father asked quietly, concerned.  
  
_What?_  
The question was so surprising that Neil looked up.  
  
‘No,’ Neil answered cautiously, but the word had barely left his lips, hanging in the air between them, before he remembered the marks that didn’t hurt,  
that wouldn’t stay.  
  
His right hand twitched, wanting to reach up and cover his neck, but Neil immediately repressed the movement, hoping his father hadn’t noticed.  
  
But his father always noticed.  
  
‘Oh, but you look like you have a rash. Does it itch? Or hurt?’  
  
Neil told the truth.  
  
‘No.’  
  
His father moved closer.  
Reached out a hand.  
  
Neil gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand still.  
  
‘On second thought…’ his father murmured, grasping Neil’s chin and forcefully tilting his head back, looking at his neck. ‘They look more like…’  
  
The uncomfortable angle hurt Neil’s neck, but he forced himself not to react, closing his eyes and breathing out calmly through his mouth  
as he waited for the final word.  
  
‘Bruises,’ his father whispered.  
  
The fire crackled and burned behind them.  
  
His father tightened his grip uncomfortably on Neil’s chin.  
  
For a frantic heartbeat or two, Neil told himself that if he stayed as still as possible,  
it would not be so bad.  
  
But then his father fisted his nightshirt, roughly pulled him closer and—  
_Rip_ said Neil’s night shirt,  
as his father’s knife started cutting it away.  
  
The knife dragged over Neil’s chest, stinging his skin,  
but he managed to stay still and unmoving  
and keep his eyes closed.  
  
His father yanked roughly on his shirt, and it fell away.  
  
‘You fucking _slut_ ,’ he hissed.  
  
Neil kept his eyes closed.

Even when his father grasped his pants  
and _pulled,_  
slicing it away with his knife.  
  
Slicing everything away until Neil stood naked,  
burning under his father’s gaze,  
ashamed and embarrassed.  
  
‘Hmm.’ His father walked closer. Neil could feel his body warmth and wanted to recoil. ‘Seems you didn’t entirely ruin yourself.’  
  
Ruined.  
  
Neil’s back was ruined.  
His left hand was ruined.  
And sometimes it felt like his mind was ruined too.  
  
‘But we can’t show this to Lola.’  
  
Neil’s eyes flew open.  
  
His father shook his head disapprovingly, but Neil immediately focused on the knife twirling in his hands.  
  
It glinted in the firelight,  
reflecting the flames.  
  
‘We need to hide this,’ his father said, taking a step closer. ‘We need to _burn_ this away.’  
  
Fear wrapped its hand around Neil’s throat  
and _squeezed_ so hard Neil’s head felt light, and breathing was near _impossible_.  
  
‘It—it will fade,’ Neil stammered in a weak voice.  
  
The hands that always inflicted pain stilled,  
holding the knife between his fingers.  
  
‘No…’ his father said slowly, ‘No, I don’t think they will, Nathaniel. Not fast enough anyway.’  
  
Neil tried to swallow but his throat was too dry.  
  
With two steps, his father was back into his space. Fisting a hand in Neil’s hair, he yanked his head back and pressed the knife against Neil’s neck.  
  
‘I don’t have a lot of time…’ his father murmured, ‘But I will mark where I need to burn. Just in case.’  
  
Neil wanted to ask why there wasn’t a lot of time,  
but then the knife’s blade sliced into his neck  
and his thoughts started spiralling down, flitting every possible way to try and escape the feeling of the steel slicing over his skin, cutting through the painless marks.  
  
Biting his lip so hard he could taste blood, Neil was silent as his father went over each mark on his neck.  
  
_Red_ hot liquid trailed down his collarbones.   
  
Finally,  
after twelve cuts,  
twelve burning slices into his skin,  
his father stepped away and eyed his handiwork with a smile.  
  
‘I marked them all,’ he said in satisfaction.  
  
_Mark me as yours_.  
  
It was hard to keep standing.  
  
‘Put some clothes on,’ his father scoffed. ‘I don’t want to see your ugly scars. Be quick, we’re leaving in three minutes.’  
  
Without thinking about his father’s words, Neil just nodded obediently and went to his room, quickly getting dressed. He wiped away the blood he could see with a towel, then put on a darker shirt.  
  
But some of the _red_ was still visible.  
  
Nothing he could do about it.   
  
Downstairs, his father nodded once when Neil climbed down. ‘Get your cloak,’ he ordered, and moved to the door.   
  
It wasn’t lost on Neil how he would be hiding red with red.  
  
He stopped near the small mirror on the wall.  
  
On his neck, six crosses.  
They hid the marks perfectly.  
  
Neil felt tears burn in his eyes.  
  
It wasn’t from the pain.  
  
☽  
  
Neil watched his feet walk over mud and ice.  
Watched as sometimes a splash of red broke the colours apart.  
  
As his father had instructed, he kept his head down. Until they stopped in front of a house Neil recognised all too well.  
  
The blacksmith.  
  
Neil’s heart started pounding faster,  
but his father gave him no time to catch his breath or to run away. He’d already pushed open the door, ushering Neil inside.  
  
Renee was working in the workshop, but as soon Neil stumbled inside, her eyes instantly focused on his neck, for just a second, before flitting to Nathan.  
  
‘Do you have what I asked you to acquire?’ Neil's father asked.  
  
She nodded once.  
Neil noticed her grip on her hammer didn’t loosen even one fraction.  
As if she was prepared to use it.  
  
‘Nathaniel,’ his father said shortly, dismissively, so Neil walked silently towards the main room.  
  
It was to be expected, but he still flinched when Allison’s chair hit the ground as she saw him. And then she was up close, too close, and Neil immediately moved back, sidestepping her hands.  
  
His father’s low voice could be heard faintly through the wooden walls.  
  
‘Is he here?’ Allison hissed, looking over his shoulder at the door as if she could look through it.  
  
Neil nodded.  
  
After a few seconds of staring angrily at the door, Allison took a deep breath before turning her attention back to him.  
To his neck.  
  
‘Oh Neil…’ she said. She sounded sad. And still angry. ‘Are those marks?’  
  
Neil nodded.  
Marks to be burned away.  
  
They were, after all, temporary.  
  
‘I wish I could be happy for you right now,’ Allison said quietly.  
  
The word sounded foreign.  
So Neil changed the subject.  
  
‘You’re not safe here,’ he said quietly. ‘You need to go into the woods. There’s a house there. It’s safe.’  
  
Allison stared at him in disbelief. ‘Are you shitting me?’  
  
Reluctantly, Neil dragged his eyes away from her shoulders and met her stare.   
When Allison saw in his eyes that he was serious, she looked angry.  
  
‘Are _you_ going too?’  
  
‘No.’  
  
‘Then I’m not going either.’  
  
‘But it’s not sa—’  
  
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Allison interrupted him, waving his words away. ‘I heard you the first time. But you’re being ridiculous right now. It’s not safe for _you_ here. I’m not just going to leave you. As long as you’re here, _I’m_ here.’  
  
Though the wounds on his neck burned and itched,  
the strange, warm feeling spreading through Neil's chest temporarily numbed the pain.  
  
‘That’s… unnecessary,’ he said eventually.  
  
‘Shut up,’ Allison snapped, but there was no harshness in her voice. ‘Let me heal your wounds.’  
  
But before she could move closer, Neil took a step back, out of her reach.  
He shook his head.  
The movement caused his ruined skin to stretch painfully.  
  
‘Can’t,’ he whispered, left hand twitching. ‘He’ll know.’  
  
‘Neil,’ Allison tried, moving closer. ‘You can’t just—’  
  
‘No. If you want to stay, fine. You stay. But you’ll only hurt me more when you heal me now.’  
  
Allison’s mouth snapped shut.  
She stared angrily at him.  
  
‘Fine,’ she snapped. ‘But Andrew’s not going to be happy about this. He'll want to retaliate.’  
  
Neil could say with absolute certainty, ‘He won’t.’ After a second, he added, ‘I’m not his.’  
  
Allison tilted her head to the side, her blonde hair falling over her shoulders and exposing the scars on her neck.  
  
Soon they would match.  
  
‘He might be able to hold back the wolf’s instincts...’ she said. ‘And he might not.’  
  
‘He will.’  
  
‘What about those marks on your neck?’  
  
‘I asked him to.’  
  
‘Yeah, I’m sure you asked him for six marks,’ Allison said drily.  
  
Neil changed the subject. ‘Do you know what happened in the village near the river?’  
  
Allison opened her mouth to answer, but the door to the main room opened with a _bang_  
as Nathan stepped inside.  
  
‘Nathaniel,’ he called out. ‘We’re going.’  
  
Neil immediately dropped his gaze and walked back to his father. When he was at his side, his father gripped his chin and forced his head up, tilting it back,  
the edges of the wounds on his neck tearing painfully.  
  
‘Did you behave yourself?’  
  
‘Absolutely!’ Allison chirped before Neil could answer. ‘Better than you!’  
  
Nathan’s hand twitched.  
Anger.  
Nathan pushed Neil towards the door, then focused his attention on Allison.  
  
‘I see your wounds have healed.’  
  
‘So they have,’ Allison agreed.  
  
‘And so fast too. Almost like... magic.’  
  
‘What an idea.’  
  
Silence.

For a breath or two, neither of them spoke.  
Neil wanted to see what was going on but he was afraid his father would see it as disobeying, so he just pushed the door open and walked out.  
  
It seemed to break the tension in the room.  
  
‘Goodbye,’ he heard his father say coldly.  
  
‘Please don’t go to _any_ trouble to visit again,’ Allison replied pleasantly.  
  
☽  
  
On the walk back, Neil saw a lot of broken glass littered between the snow and mud. It glittered faintly, and _crunched_ loudly when Neil stepped on the pieces.  
  
They passed the dark houses. Neil noticed all the broken and burned pieces of furniture lying on the road, or stashed away behind houses.  
  
‘Seems my men are doing their job,’ his father commented.  
  
☽  
  
As soon as the front door came into view,  
Neil’s breathing quickened  
and his hands started twitching.  
  
The thought of going back to the fire, back inside the suffocating house, made him shift nervously.  
Made it impossible to take the last few steps up the stairs.  
  
‘Nathaniel,’ his father said softly. He was standing near the front door, looking down at Neil.  
  
Always looking down at him.

‘I will kill them,’ his father simply said.  
  
No, promised.  
  
Neil dropped his gaze to the snow,   
but his eyes weren’t seeing anything as the panic slowly took over.  
As the thoughts of Andrew, lying on the ground, _killed_ ,  
as the images of Allison’s burned, dark red throat  
flooded his mind.  
  
For a few seconds, his vision nearly blacked out.  
  
But then Neil took a deep breath  
in  
and  
out  
and followed his father inside the house.  
  
The suffocating heat took away the last of his panicked breaths, but he barely noticed.  
Barely noticed his father walking to the fire,  
reaching for the poker.  
  
Neil’s mind was already running, running, running,  
until he reached the woods,  
the cold air  
and flashing eyes.  
  
It worked until he started choking,  
the smell of burning flesh filling his mind.  
  
☽  
  
Sleep was bliss.  
There was no pain,  
though there was the memory of pain.  
  
He knew he was asleep.  
Knew, because he wasn’t sweating.  
  
Until someone he didn’t see suddenly grabbed him from behind, restraining his arms, putting a hand on his mouth, choking him.   
There was the feeling of a hot poker pushing against his throat, crushing his windpipe,  
and Neil was choking and burning and choking and burning,  
_burning—_  
  
Waking up.  
  
Neil shot upright,  
and was instantly aware of two things.  
  
One, there was a hand on his mouth.  
Two, he wasn’t alone in the room.  
  
Renee was sitting on his bed. Her grip on his mouth was so strong that Neil didn’t struggle.  
  
When she noticed Neil wasn’t going to scream, she slowly released him and put a finger to her mouth, before pointing downstairs, in the direction of the woods.  
  
Neil shook his head.  
  
Renee grasped his hand.  
Tightly.  
For just a second or two.  
  
Her eyes said she would be here.  
She would help.  
  
But Neil had lied enough in his life to recognise them.  
  
And yet.  
And yet he wanted to be there, in the woods, wanted to feel free from this fear, wanted to run away—  
Wanted to run to Andrew.  
  
He nodded.  
  
Together they sneaked through the house, Neil pointing out which floorboards creaked and which didn’t. After twenty sticky and struggling breaths, they made it safely to the back door.  
  
And then the cold, cold air hit the feverish skin of his neck.  
It felt wonderful.  
  
Neil closed his eyes for a second.  
  
When he opened them again, Renee was watching him with a sad look on her face.  
  
☽  
  
Neil didn’t even make it to the edge of the village before his feet were moving faster,  
before he was running,  
leaving everything behind him.  
  
At the edge of the forest,  
was Andrew.  
  
Neil panicked for a second, because Andrew was standing out in the open and his father’s men could easily spot him like this, even in the dark, because Andrew’s eyes were flashing a brilliant bronze.  
  
But then the panic was replaced by a longing,  
a wanting that made Neil’s heart leap inside his chest.  
He ran faster, needing to reach Andrew faster, sooner, _now_.  
  
Though Andrew was just out of reach, he was close enough that Neil could hear him take in a struggling breath, could hear him growl lowly, in warning.  
  
Neil stopped.  
  
Andrew’s hands were trembling, and his nails looked sharper than normal.  
His flashing eyes were focused on Neil’s neck.  
  
Another growl rippled from Andrew’s throat. ‘Tell me.’  
  
‘I want to feel safe,’ Neil whispered. He gestured to his neck. ‘I need to—’   
  
‘Hand,’ Andrew growled.  
  
‘Yes,’ Neil answered.  
  
And so the wolf took him by the hand,   
and pulled him deeper into the woods.  
  
With every step,  
and every slight swing of their hands,  
Neil left the burning memories behind.  
  
☽  
  
They walked into the warmer, gentler forest,  
passing green trees and green moss. When Neil saw the moss and remembered the touches, his heart skipped a longing beat.  
  
Andrew looked briefly over his shoulder.  
But he didn’t ask.  
  
And then they were at the little, brick cottage,  
which smelled like bread that evening.  
  
‘They’re here?’ Neil asked quietly.  
  
Andrew didn’t answer, instead pushing open the door and pulling Neil inside,  
pulling him towards his brother, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed in the corner, a book in his lap.  
  
Though Aaron looked up, Andrew still tapped his shoulder once,  
a touch that lasted not even a second.  
  
‘Heal him,’ Andrew said.   
  
‘Heal him?’ Nicky echoed from the kitchen.   
  
He moved closer to Neil, but halted when he saw the wounds on Neil’s neck.  
His hands flew up to cover his mouth,  
yet Neil still heard his sharp intake of breath.  
  
Aaron was watching Neil silently,   
so Neil took the opportunity to peer at the book he was reading. There was a detailed drawing of a plant. A herb, maybe. Neil wanted to ask, but now didn’t seem like a good time. Later.  
  
‘I’m not good with burns,’ Aaron said eventually. ‘I might make it worse.’  
  
‘I’ll help,’ Bee offered.  
  
She was standing in the kitchen near the stove, stirring something that looked like hot chocolate. As always, she’d known exactly when Andrew would be coming home.  
_Home._  
  
‘Okay,’ Neil said.  
  
Bee wiped her hands on her apron and moved a little closer. ‘You need to be gone,’ she said to Nicky and Andrew. ‘If you want, you can stay to help, Aaron.’  
  
‘You know, for once I don’t mind going outside?’ Nicky said. ‘If I’d known the weather was like this out here, I would’ve gone a lot sooner.’  
  
Neil didn’t think he would have, but he kept that to himself.  
  
Before Andrew followed Nicky outside, he put a hand between Neil’s shoulderblades, the tips of his fingers touching Neil’s neck.  
  
‘I’ll be outside.’  
  
‘Okay,’ Neil nodded, forgetting for a moment the wounds on his neck. The movement hurt. He winced.  
  
A low growl sounded through Andrew’s chest, low and deep and threatening, and then it was gone, and Andrew left the cottage.  
  
After ordering Aaron to get a bunch of ingredients and salves,   
Bee gently instructed Neil to take off his clothes and lie down on the bed.  
  
When she went to grab her incense, Neil slightly turned his head to Aaron, who was sitting beside him on the bed, mixing two indiscernible fluids together in a wooden bowl.  
  
‘Why?’ Neil asked. ‘Why magic?’  
  
Aaron’s jaw clenched in anger,  
and the spoon scraped loudly against the bowl as he stirred.  
  
‘Because I never want to fail again,’ he answered angrily. ‘I never want to be too late to save someone. Never again.’  
  
‘Andrew,’ Neil guessed.  
  
‘His entire chest was burned. Slashed open.’  
  
Neil swallowed as the red image flashed in his mind.  
He didn’t need to imagine what burn wounds or mangled flesh looked like.  
He knew.  
  
Bee returned, and a sweet smelling smoke filled the room.  
Filled Neil's lungs.  
His eyes widened  
and his hands grasped the sheets tightly.  
  
‘The smoke,’ Aaron said, pushing Bee’s arm away.  
  
‘Oh, dear, I'm sorry. Is it too much?’ she asked.  
  
Eyes watering, Neil managed to nod.  
It hurt it hurt it hurt.  
His neck.  
Breathing.  
  
‘It might be better if you sleep,’ Bee suggested. ‘I have something to make you fall asleep, if you want.’  
  
The choice between having to breathe while people touched the wounds on his neck  
or being unaware until it was over  
was quickly made.  
  
‘I’ll sleep,’ Neil said.  
  
‘We won’t use smoke,’ Aaron promised.  
  
It confused Neil why he mentioned it if Neil was going to be sleeping anyway,   
but then Bee returned with a herb and told him to chew.  
  
☽  
  
She was the first thing Neil saw when he opened his eyes again.  
  
He tried to sit up, but Bee held up her hand. ‘Just lie down for a few more minutes, and let the salve do its magic.’  
  
Her eyes looked smaller as she smiled, laughing at her own joke.  
  
‘Are they gone?’ Neil asked quietly.  
  
Bee’s smile softened. She knew what he meant. ‘They will be almost entirely gone. Luckily, we were fast.’  
  
A deep, deep breath left Neil,   
and for a moment, the fear and pain were gone.  
  
Bee watched him.   
  
‘I’m sorry you had to go through this,’ she said quietly.  
  
But he’d been asleep.  
  
‘Through what?’  
  
Bee opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to change her mind. Finally, she settled on, ‘I’m sorry we had to heal you in the first place.’  
  
Oh.  
Neil didn’t know what to say to that.  
  
‘It’s supposed to be a great thing,’ Bee said softly. ‘Andrew marking you.’

‘I asked him to.’  
  
Bee laughed. ‘He was very thorough then.’  
  
Neil remembered Allison also commenting on the marks.  
  
‘Why?’ he asked.  
  
‘He left his family behind, Neil. Andrew’s left everything of his behind. And you... You’re the first thing he’s acknowledging as his. Or well, as something close to him.’  
  
Neil’s chest felt warm.  
He felt the urge to smile.  
He didn’t.  
  
‘And now Aaron and Nicky are back too,’ Bee said with a smile. ‘I think they got you to thank for that.’  
  
But Andrew was just protecting his family.  
  
‘I just asked,’ he said.  
  
Bee smiled.  
  
‘And somehow he marked you six times.’  
  
☽

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; ‘Did we have the sex talk, Andrew?’ Nicky said. 
> 
> You know, I noticed a lot of people cry in this fic.  
> I mean, it's not like they have a lot to laugh about... D:
> 
> Thank you SO much for reading again!!  
> Please let me know what you thought, if you'd like :D


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> I noticed I write a lot of long sentences in this fic, but this chapter actually features a lot of the breaks  
> I use in other fics.
> 
> OH and  
> TW for this chapter: non-con 
> 
> ... Enjoy?

  
When Andrew and Nicky returned, Andrew immediately made for the bed,  
sitting beside Neil.  
Looking at him.  
  
Neil’s heart jumped in his chest.  
  
And for just a moment, Andrew’s stare hardened.   
Then his eyes dropped to Neil’s neck. He grabbed the towel lying at the end of the bed and gently cleaned away the last of the salve,  
so the wounds were visible once again.  
  
Neil had no idea what his neck looked like.  
But it was enough to see Andrew’s shoulders drop just a little,  
to see the tension in his face lessen.  
  
‘I bet it smells horrible,’ Neil said.  
  
‘We put in daisies,’ Aaron argued.  
  
‘Yeah, I don’t think I can even smell the salve,’ Nicky said, sniffing the air.  
  
‘You know,’ Bee said suddenly. ‘We used so many ingredients for the salve... I think I need to pick some fresh herbs and flowers. Give an old woman a hand, will you, boys?’  
  
‘But the jars are fu—’ Aaron started,   
when Andrew reached out and pushed one of the jars off the little table close to the bed.  
  
It crashed on the floor, scattering purple flowers everywhere.  
  
Nobody said anything.  
  
‘Looks like you need more lavender,’ Andrew said flatly.  
  
Aaron stared at him.   
  
‘What the fuck.’  
  
‘But, uh, the flowers aren’t broken or anything?’ Nicky said.  
  
‘Germs!’ Bee suddenly piped up. ‘There’s germs all over those flowers now. I definitely can’t use them anymore.’  
  
Aaron watched her incredulously. ‘They come from the fucking earth.’  
  
‘Wait,’ Nicky said. ‘You clean the flowers? How does that even work?’  
  
‘Let’s go, boys!’ Bee said enthusiastically, moving to the door without waiting to see if they were actually following her.  
  
‘Don’t we need a basket?’ Aaron asked, watching her suspiciously.  
  
It seemed like Nicky got the hint however, because he quickly grabbed the basket hanging on a hook near the door. ‘Got it!’  
  
Before he left, however, Nicky looked over his shoulder at Neil and said softly, ‘You can't see the wounds anymore.’  
  
It was nice that Nicky said the wounds weren’t visible anymore.   
  
Because Neil felt like the scars  
would never truly leave.  
  
Muttering something decidedly unfriendly, Aaron followed them out, shutting the door behind him.  
  
And then they were alone together.  
  
Andrew was watching Neil with the same intensity as he always had.  
As he had  
from the moment they met.  
  
And just like the moment they first met,  
his gaze caught Neil again,  
and made it feel okay to stop running.  
  
‘I know what it means, now that this is healed.’ Neil gestured to his neck. ‘My father won't like this. I’ve never erased one of his marks before.’  
  
‘He won’t mark you again.’  
  
The way Andrew said the words made Neil believe,  
if only for a moment.  
  
‘What happened?’ Neil asked instead.  
  
For once, it was Andrew who looked away, staring absent-mindedly at the jars on Bee’s kitchen counter.  
  
‘Aaron said you were burned and slashed,’ Neil continued carefully. ‘How did you survive?’  
  
Andrew’s right hand twitched, his fingers tensing like he wanted to ball them into a fist but was fighting against it.  
  
‘I was made into this,’ Andrew said eventually, voice flat.  
  
Wolf by day, human by night.   
Changing from one into the other at sunrise  
and sunset.  
  
Only, Neil couldn’t help but feel that Andrew was both,  
most of the time.  
  
And then the thought hit him,   
that the same might also be true for himself.  
  
When he was with Andrew, when he was in the woods, Neil felt less like someone who was afraid all the time, someone who struggled to breathe,  
and more like he could outrun _anyone_ ,  
more like he actually deserved to breathe,  
deserved to breathe in air that wouldn’t stick to his lungs and suffocate him slowly.  
  
It didn’t mean that the Neil who was always afraid was gone though.  
He still existed.  
  
Both  
existed.  
  
Did that mean that the other Neil,  
the one who allowed himself to want, who thought about what he deserved,  
could exist outside the woods too?  
  
Neil’s thoughts were interrupted when Andrew put a hand on the bed, causing it to dip slightly, then moved to lie beside Neil.  
  
The warm feeling returned.  
  
Neil turned his head to look at Andrew,  
who met his gaze head on.  
Who held out his hand.  
  
Not breaking their eye contact,  
Neil took Andrew’s hand  
and brought it to his neck.  
  
It felt warm.  
  
Andrew slowly spread his fingers,  
until they were wrapped loosely around Neil’s neck.  
His only source of air.  
  
Heart beating fast, Neil took a deep breath.  
  
It was so easy.  
  
‘Can I touch your neck?’ Neil asked.  
  
‘Yes,’ Andrew replied.  
  
Reaching out with his left hand, scars visible,  
Neil carefully trailed his fingers along Andrew’s neck.  
  
Andrew swallowed,  
and Neil’s fingers moved with the movement.  
  
He wanted to feel the sensation beneath his lips too.  
But he immediately pushed the thought away.  
  
‘Do you smell like me now?’ he asked with a half-smile.  
  
But.  
  
‘No.’  
  
Neil opened his mouth to ask, but Andrew took Neil’s hand and pressed his palm against his neck, so roughly that Neil’s fingers nearly dug into the skin.  
  
Andrew’s eyes pierced through Neil.  
  
‘Harder,’ he said.  
  
_Thoughts_.  
  
And though breathing was easy, Neil found it hard to look Andrew in the eye  
as he dragged his hand  
and nails  
over Andrew’s neck.  
  
Andrew’s breathing turned a little rough, but his hand on Neil’s neck stayed gentle.  
  
The air between them felt heady with unspoken _thoughts_ , so Neil dropped his eyes and watched the scars on the back of his left hand.  
Noticed the stark contrast with Andrew’s nearly flawless skin.  
  
‘How come there are no scars?’ he asked quietly.  
  
‘There are,’ Andrew answered.  
  
Neil didn’t want to push.  
But he was holding Andrew’s throat in his hand and in return, had given Andrew the power to cut off his air.  
  
And he wanted to know.  
  
‘What happened?’  
  
It seemed like an eternity of breaths,  
an eternity of lying next to each other and looking into each other’s eyes,  
their chests rising and falling almost in sync.  
  
Then Andrew said just one word.  
But it made Neil’s skin crawl.  
  
‘Lola.’  
  
☽  
  
The word tore at something inside him.  
Something that was already threadbare, already as thin and fragile as the dying leaves on the forest ground.    
  
Neil pushed himself up.  
  
‘I need to go,’ he said. Convinced himself.  
  
The barest hint of a touch trailed over his back,  
making Neil forget for a moment that the skin there was ruined and wrecked  
as he closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing.  
  
But his exhale still stuttered,  
and his legs still trembled as he moved to stand, as he walked towards the door and grabbed his cloak.  
  
He turned to look at Andrew,  
who was still lying on the bed, though he’d propped himself up on one elbow. His hair was slightly tousled from lying down.  
  
Andrew was watching him with a dark, warm look in his eyes.  
  
Neil groaned. ‘You make it hard to go.’  
  
Andrew’s eyes flashed. ‘That the only thing?’  
  
Neil’s laugh was shaky as the heat flowed through his body.  
Heat that didn’t burn.  
  
‘No, that’s not the only thing.’  
  
Just then, the door flew open, and an angry Aaron stormed inside.  
  
‘What’s not the only thing?’ he snapped, throwing a basket overflowing with lavender on the kitchen table.  
  
‘You’re going?’ Nicky asked, walking in behind Aaron, also carrying a basket filled with flowers.  
  
‘I swear to god if you had fucking sex in that bed…. I have to sleep in there!’ Aaron exclaimed angrily.  
  
‘Technically, you don’t,’ Neil said. ‘It’s not that cold outside.’  
  
‘Gross, _fuck_ , we went to all this trouble just so you could fuck my broth—’  
  
‘Look at all these flowers!’ Bee exclaimed, walking into the cottage with a smile on her face. ‘It’s going to smell so lovely in here.’  
  
‘I don’t think it’s going to cover Aaron’s anger,’ Neil muttered.  
  
‘Did we have the sex talk, Andrew?’ Nicky suddenly asked. ‘I can’t remember, and I just want to make sure you two aren’t doing anything—’  
  
‘ _Nicky!’_ Aaron snapped.  
  
‘I’m going,’ Neil said.  
  
Andrew quickly moved to his feet. ‘I’ll go with you.’  
  
‘No, I think—’ Neil paused for a moment. ‘I can do this alone.’  
  
There was no hesitation or disbelief from Andrew, no  
_you’re worthless_ _  
_ or  
_you can’t do anything_.  
  
Andrew merely nodded.  
  
‘Go where? Don’t you want to know what happened at the village near the river?’ Nicky asked.  
  
Neil’s hand froze over the doorknob. ‘What happened?’ he asked, turning towards Nicky again.  
  
‘It’s the boundary,’ Nicky answered. ‘Your father wants to break it.’  
  
‘Boundary?’ Neil asked. ‘The town’s?’  
  
‘More or less. But apparently, this boundary is magical.’  
  
‘It’s a lot like the one I put around the house and the fields,’ Bee said. ‘But mine only keeps out the winter weather. The boundary around your town keeps something in.’  
  
Suddenly, it all made sense.  
How had he never noticed this before?  
  
‘My father,’ he said.  
  
Nicky nodded.  
  
The silence that followed was tense.  
Neil guessed nobody knew for certain why his father wanted to break the boundary, and why he wanted to do it _now_.  
  
‘This can’t be good,’ he said. His mind was spinning. ‘Whatever he wants, it’s going to cost others.’  
  
‘You mean you,’ Aaron said.  
  
Nicky frowned at his cousin, but Aaron merely shrugged. ‘What? It’s true.’  
  
‘No, that wouldn’t be it,’ Neil said, thinking out loud. ‘He’s already got me.’  
  
‘Has he?’ Andrew asked.  
  
Reminding Neil that both,  
both could exist.  
  
Neil took a deep breath, and hoped he wasn’t hiding a lie between truths.  
  
‘Not anymore,’ he answered.  
  
☽  
  
The air around him smelled like rain, and the mud underneath Neil’s feet was sticky.  
  
He looked up at the dark sky and wondered when it had rained.   
Wondered if the rain had managed to put out the fires.  
  
The slick, too loud, sound of his feet getting sucked into the mud was making Neil nervous, and, hand trailing the dark and wet walls of the house beside him, he quickly sprinted to the next.  
  
A shout could be heard from somewhere in the village, the sound piercing the air like Andrew’s howling.   
  
But there was  _fear_ in this sound.  
  
Neil’s heart was beating fast.  
He told himself to breathe, allowed himself a few moments before continuing to sneak between the dark houses.  
  
The sky above rumbled.   
Dark clouds were gathering in the air, grey and looming, sucking away all the colours.  
  
All,  
but one.  
  
Looking left and right, Neil sprinted to the house opposite the street when his feet slipped,  
the world tilted,  
and he fell on the ground with a wet _smack_.  
  
He could see the dark, rumbling clouds above.  
  
A nasty laugh sounded from somewhere behind him.  
  
Neil barely thought the name  
before Romero’s face loomed above him, teeth bared in something that barely resembled a smile, his hammer swishing through the air.  
  
‘If it isn’t the runaway,’ Romero grinned.  
  
Thoughts were fast and fleeting.  
Neil didn’t know if staying put would help, didn’t know if running would get him far.  
All he knew was that Romero hadn’t hesitated _then_ ,   
before he’d swung his hammer.  
  
‘I know I should respect you, you being the boss’s kid an’ all, but see…’ Romero paused. ‘I get this feeling that you don’t want to marry my sister. And that’s where things get personal, see?’  
  
Something hot burned in Neil’s throat.  
  
‘Only a monster would want to marry her,’ he spat.  
  
Romero blinked in surprise, then let out a scathing laugh. ‘Ohh, kid. You talk about wanting like you actually got a choice.’  
  
He bent down and hauled Neil up by his shirt, pushing him forward so hard Neil’s feet slipped on the muddy ground, nearly falling down again.  
  
‘Let’s go,’ Romero snapped, pressing the end of his hammer against Neil’s back.  
  
The cold metal didn’t feel like anything other than a threat.  
Neil’s breath got stuck in his throat.  
Because he knew where Romero was going to take him.  
  
Never mind, he thought, and forced himself to start walking.  
He’d been heading towards his father anyway.  
  
☽  
  
The house was, as always, stiflingly hot  
and suffocatingly dark.  
  
The only light came from the hearth.  
Harsh flames illuminated his father, who was standing with his back to the fire. Dark shadows hid half of his face as he stared Neil down.  
  
‘Good night, Neil,’ he said. It sounded like the end. ‘Be grateful you’re never going to sleep alone again.’  
  
Romero laughed. Gave Neil a little push with his hammer.  
  
But Neil’s feet were standing squarely on the ground, and he refused to budge.  
  
His father jerked his head once and the pressure on Neil’s back vanished as Romero walked towards the door.   
Blocking the only way out.  
  
His father slowly moved closer, watching Neil with cold eyes.  
And even though Neil's heart was pounding wildly, and his legs were trembling, Neil didn’t move as he met his father’s gaze.  
  
A sick smile spread on his father’s face before he leaned in.   
He whispered in Neil’s ear, ‘I wish the monster could see you after she fucked you, but I’m afraid it’ll be long dead before you can walk again.’  
  
Neil’s stomach lurched in fear.  
Disgust.  
Anger.  
  
Before he could do anything, two hands gripped his wrists and pulled them behind his back,   
pulling him away from his father and closer to the ladder.   
  
Something metal snapped around his wrists.  
  
Neil’s eyes widened at the same time that Lola’s tongue flicked against his ear  
and her breathy laugh filled his head.  
  
‘I know we’re not married yet,’ Lola breathed, pressing her body close against Neil’s back.  ‘But you never cared for rules anyway, right, Neil?’  
  
A knife pressed against his throat.  
  
‘Walk,’ she hissed.  
  
Neil’s body felt paralysed from fear, and he could barely feel the burning flames of anger anymore.  
  
He looked at the ladder in front of him, and knew that once he walked up,  
he could never get down again.  
  
Because he could never get lower than that.  
  
Lola’s hand on his arm was hot,  
scalding his skin like the burning poker,  
and the knife pressed against his throat felt like it was burning through his neck as smoothly as if it were snow.  
  
Neil set a foot on the ladder.  
  
‘Easy now,’ Lola murmured, hand moving to support his back. ‘I got you.’  
  
Bile rose up in his throat,  
but somehow, on shaking legs, Neil managed to reach his room.  
  
Before he could turn and fight back,   
Lola shoved him on the mattress and climbed on top of him.   
  
Neil immediately tried to push himself up, but Lola pushed his face into the mattress.   
  
It was difficult to breathe.  
  
‘No, no,’ she laughed. It was a disgustingly breathy sound. ‘I get to play now.’  
  
‘You’re sick,’ Neil hissed when Lola started tearing and slicing at his clothes.  
  
‘No,’ Lola murmured. She pushed Neil onto his stomach and ran her hands all over the scars on his back.   
  
Her hands were too hot, almost burning.   
They reminded Neil exactly  _how_ his scars had been made.  
  
Neil's left hand twitched and cramped.  
  
‘ _He_ said that too,’ Lola continued in a soft whisper, and Neil felt her breath burning his back,  
felt her mouth at his scars.  
  
First her lips,  
then her tongue.  
  
It felt like a flame licking at his skin, and Neil’s body spasmed from disgust and fear  
and the ever growing, burning panic.  
  
‘He said I was sick.’  
  
Lola started cutting away his pants.   
Neil struggled again and again, trying to get away from the burning hands touching more and more of his skin.   
  
She was getting her scent all over him.  
  
Suddenly,  
a blinding pain in his thigh.  
  
Lola had stabbed his left leg.  
  
‘Stay still,’ she breathed, and when Neil did, from the shocking pain, she pulled away the last of his pants. ‘I had to bind him too,’ Lola said, dragging her nails all over his legs.  
  
Neil moved his head to the side to get more air, but Lola immediately pushed his face back.  
  
‘More than you. I had to bind his arms, his legs, eventually his throat…’  
  
Clothes rustled behind him  
and then the feeling of Lola’s naked skin was pressing against his back.  
  
It was disgusting  
and so gross  
and Neil’s skin _crawled_ and he wanted it gone, gone, gone.  
  
‘But I fucked him good,’ Lola breathed, moving up his body, dragging her burning skin against him as she mouthed at his neck, erasing Andrew’s scent no no no no— ‘Just like I’m going to fuck you good.’  
  
Neil bucked frantically, trying to throw her off, but then—  
_burning._  
  
His right shoulder started to feel numb,  
the usual numbness that followed a burn.  
  
Smoke curled in the air.  
Neil could smell it.  
  
And his mind  
blanked.  
  
His body refused to cooperate anymore, lying deadly still like he had done in the past, hoping the touch would be gone eventually,  
hoping the touch would kill him after all.  
  
Lola bit his neck.  
  
‘I know you think you’re in love with that monster. So I’ll give it to you from the back first, let you feel what that would’ve been like.’  
  
Her hands travelled down and pushed Neil’s legs apart.  
  
‘And then,’ she said. ‘Then, I’m going to show you what _real_ love is.’  
  
Her hand fisted his hair, and lifted his head up.   
  
Neil stared unseeingly at the dark walls.  
  
‘Hasn’t your father taught you manners?’ she hissed, curling a hand around Neil’s neck, cutting off his air, making it hard _so hard_ to breathe.  
  
The hand on his neck felt too hot, and then the all-encompassing sensation of being _burned—_  
  
For those breathless, endless moments it was Neil’s entire world.  
  
Until the blissful numbness settled in.  
  
Lola laughed. ‘Oh, your body relaxes after being burned. How wonderful. I can use this.’  
  
Gripping Neil’s chin with a burning hand, she forced his head to the side, forced her lips on his.   
Her tongue licked wetly over his mouth.  
  
‘I’m going to get this metal pole I nicked from the blacksmith… And I’m going to fuck you with it,’ she promised against his lips. ‘And you’re going to keep quiet.’   
  
She leaned back.

Finally,   
her body heat was gone.

Though the house still felt unbearably hot, it was nothing compared to Lola’s body pressing Neil into the mattress.  
  
‘Nice and quiet,’ Lola murmured. ‘Just like Andrew.’  
  
That thin, threadbare something inside Neil didn’t just snap.  
  
It _burned_.  
  
And then there was nothing left except Neil’s rage.  
  
There was nothing left  
but to get up  
and claim more air than he’d been given.  
  
Neil tensed his upper body, hearing Lola scuffle back to him.  
  
‘Here it is…’ she giggled.  
  
Neil could vaguely hear the metal scrape across the floor.  
She was doing it on purpose, knowing he’d heard the sound countless times.  
The bitch.  
  
As he’d hoped, Lola straddled his back again, unable to resist pressing her disgusting mouth against his skin.  
  
‘Get rea—’ Lola started, but Neil was done listening.  
  
He quickly twisted around, onto his back, and sat up.   
For a brief moment, he saw the surprise on Lola’s face before he bashed his head against hers.  
  
The dark walls spun for a second  
as pain nearly split his head in half.  
  
But Neil’s body had suffered more than this,  
and he forced himself to blink away the dizziness.  
  
In front of him, Lola was gripping her head and swaying a little.  
Not good enough.  
  
His first plan then.  
  
Gritting his teeth against the waves of pain, Neil roughly pushed his shoulder against her body, ignoring the disgusting feeling of touching her flesh.  
  
Lola swayed back, and it was all Neil needed.

Scuffling back quickly, using all the strength he could muster, the strength he used to run miles and miles without stopping,  
he kicked her in the chest.  
  
Lola’s arms flailed for a few seconds, suspended in the air,   
before Neil saw,  
clear as day,  
a burst of fire bloom from her flailing hands.  
  
It burned brightly in front of his face, barely grazing his skin.  
  
And when the brightness and heat were gone,  
so was Lola.  
  
The loud crash downstairs told Neil he’d succeeded, but also that he didn’t have long before someone would come check on them.  
  
He quickly took inventory of his wounds  
and stopped short when he saw the blood streaks over the floor and on the bed.  
On his legs.  
  
He barely felt the wounds though.  
  
Because the burning anger flowing through his veins was _redder_ than his blood could ever be, and he didn’t have the time. He didn’t even want to contemplate clothes.  
He needed to get out before his fath—  
  
A door downstairs opened and shut.  
  
Neil’s breath left him at once, like he’d been punched.  
  
Footsteps.  
Moving through the kitchen.  
Getting closer to the ladder.  
  
Neil needed a weapon, but the metal pole Lola had wanted to use was too far away.  
  
The footsteps halted.  
Whoever it was had probably seen Lola’s body.  
  
Suddenly, the ladder started creaking and shaking as someone climbed up.  
Up to Neil’s room.  
  
Neil prepared himself for the attack, his body tensing, his legs ready to kick at whoever showed up.  
What if it was his fath...er...  
  
_Just like Andrew,_  
Lola had said.  
  
The images attacked Neil’s mind, gripping his body like her hands had, and Neil felt himself burn all over again.  
  
_Even_ if it was his father.  
He would fight.  
  
The ladder shook, and Neil held his breath in anticipation.  
  
And then suddenly, quicker than Neil could react, someone jumped onto his bedroom floor.  
  
Again, it was Renee.  
  
Her eyes widened as she took in Neil,   
bloodied and ready to fight.  
  
But then the look in her eyes hardened.   
Like burning metal being put into water,   
turning solid.  
  
‘Neil. I’m so sorry this happened to you,’ she said. Then. ‘Can you walk?’  
  
Neil nodded. He shuffled to the side, and showed her his hands.

‘I can’t get these off.’  
  
Renee moved closer, yanking on the chains to check for weak spots. It merely resulted in making Neil’s arms feel like they were being pulled from his body.   
  
‘We have to go to the workshop,’ Renee said quietly. ‘I can get them off there.’  
  
‘Is it safe?’ Neil asked.  
  
‘Probably not.’

‘Then no. I won’t take any risks. I’m going into the woods, and I’m not coming back.’   
  
Instead of answering, Renee reached for the wooden box containing Neil’s clothes, and searched for something for Neil to wear.

As she helped him put on pants, she said quietly, ‘I’m glad you’ve decided to go. For good this time.’  
  
Neil wasn’t.  
  
And it must’ve showed in his posture, his face, somewhere,  
because Renee added, ‘It’s brave to walk away from something because it’s bad for you, Neil.’  
  
‘If it’s going to be as simple as that,’ Neil said.  
  
‘It will be,’ Renee said, putting on his shoes. ‘Because your father underestimated you, and he’s going to pay for that.’  
  
Her words were pretty.  
But Neil wondered if he would be able to go through with it.  
  
They climbed down the ladder quietly, like Neil had done so many times, then slipped away through the backdoor.  
  
Sneaking between the houses felt familiar too, and Neil felt his confidence grow the closer they got to the woods.  
  
He could do this.  
  
The edge of the village was disappearing quickly beneath his feet,  
and the forest was now merely a few steps away.  
  
Neil felt his breathing quicken,  
felt his anticipation and need rise  
as the first leaves _crunched_ underneath his boots as he set foot into the woods.  
  
‘Stop!’ his father’s voice boomed through the houses.  
  
A few birds startled and took flight, their wings flapping rapidly,  
sounding a lot like his father’s hand against his skin.  
  
And Neil.  
He stopped.

‘No!’ Renee exclaimed, a few steps ahead of him. ‘Neil, let’s go!’  
  
But the fear.  
It burned away the anger.  
The need.  
  
Neil struggled to breathe.  
  
‘If you go into the woods, Nathaniel,’ his father started softly, but somehow his voice could be heard for _miles_. Somehow his voice was carried on the air, whispered and echoed by the dark trees. ‘I will have to punish you.’  
  
Neil’s left hand twitched.  
And his gaze dropped to the forest ground.  
  
‘And you know how I punish, son.’  
  
With fire.  
  
And apparently rape.

Neil looked over his shoulder. ‘Too bad you’re stuck here,’ he replied.  
  
For a second, rage etched onto his father’s face, contorting it into something ugly,  
something true.  
  
And it gave Neil the courage to give up a truth of his own.

‘And you can’t keep up anyway,’ he said.  
  
No one could.  
Except Andrew.  
  
‘You worthless piece of shit, I will—’  
  
But Neil didn’t wait for his father to finish his sentence.  
He started running, running, running,  
until the forest turned warmer.  
  
Until he was nearly home.  
  
☽  
  
Allison was leaning against the door.  
  
‘You’re here,’ Neil said.  
  
Flipping her hair over her shoulder, Allison grinned at him. ‘Been here for a while. Now go, your werewolf smelled you from miles away and is slowly going crazy.’  
  
Neil immediately shouldered past her into the cottage.  
  
Judging by a chair falling back, someone had moved to his feet.   
  
‘Neil, your leg!’ Nicky exclaimed.  
  
Neil vaguely thought he could hear Aaron sigh,  
but his vision was once again caught by Andrew, who was sitting on the bed, staring at Neil.  
  
Neil breathed out,  
anxiety, fear, anger,  
and when he breathed in, Andrew was standing in front of him,  
and all Neil could taste was acceptance and maybe something else.  
  
_Then I’m going to show you what real love is.  
  
_ ‘Neck,’ Andrew said.  
  
‘Always,’ Neil smiled.  
  
Irritation crossed Andrew’s face for a moment, but it almost looked like it wasn’t real. The irritation.  
  
Neil wondered.  
And stopped wondering when Andrew touched his neck with both hands, encompassing his throat warmly, holding him securely.  
  
It could’ve felt restricting  
but it felt solid, and safe,  
like support.  
  
Like Andrew would fend off anyone who wanted to go for his throat.  
  
Neil closed his eyes as Andrew’s hands trailed over his skin and through his hair, fingers tangling into the strands.  
  
It felt wonderful.  
Neil wanted his hands everywhere.  
Wanted Andrew to erase Lola’s touch.  
  
His heart beat loudly,  
and he heard a low rumble inside Andrew’s chest,  
the fingers in his hair tightening.  
  
‘Okay, so… No way do I want to disturb these erotic touches, but like, Neil is bleeding on the floor,’ Allison said.  
  
Feeling lost in the woods, in touches, Neil opened his eyes slowly.   
He was met with Andrew’s hazel eyes, staring darkly into his.  
  
‘I am so uncomfortable,’ Aaron said sulkily.  
  
‘You don’t have to be here,’ Allison replied.  
  
‘I’m a healer. I can’t leave a patient.’  
  
‘That’s sweet,’ Renee said.  
  
‘Oh,’ Nicky said, voice all wobbly. ‘My boys are all grown up, feeling responsible, feeling horny—’  
  
‘What happened to your leg?’ Andrew asked Neil.

Remembering was like a slap in the face.  
  
Neil couldn’t help the spike of fear,   
just like Andrew couldn’t help the threatening growl in his chest.  
  
‘You smell like her,’ Andrew said slowly, voice dangerously low, and it sounded like he was piecing everything together anyway.  
  
So Neil said, ‘Lola wanted an early wedding night.’  
  
In hindsight, it might not have been the best answer.  
Because Andrew jumped to the worst conclusion,  
and Neil now knew what that had been.  
  
The rage burned in his veins.  
  
Andrew looked like he was torn between holding Neil close  
and storming out of the cottage.  
  
His legs were locked tight.  
  
Neil quickly continued. ‘My father will retaliate for this. We need to do something, we need to be able to fight back.’  
  
‘But he can’t come here yet,’ Aaron said.  
  
‘He will find a way,’ Allison said grimly.  
  
Everyone was silent.  
Andrew’s hands were still locked tightly in Neil’s hair.  
  
‘I know,’ Renee spoke up softly. ‘I know who might help us. But we need to travel back to the village near the river without your father’s men noticing.’  
  
‘What?’ Nicky asked in shock. ‘You want to go back?’  
  
‘If it helps us.’  
  
Nicky fell silent, a strange look passing over his face.  
  
Meanwhile, Allison reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of Renee’s face. ‘Smart thinking,’ she smiled. ‘That might work.’  
  
Neil wanted to ask who could help,  
but, frustratingly, the words wouldn’t leave his mouth.  
  
He suddenly noticed his hands were trembling  
and his legs were shaking.

He looked at Andrew in panic.  
  
Noticing Neil’s look, Andrew loosened his grip on his hair and slid his hands down so they were holding onto Neil’s waist.

‘Heal his leg, then go,’ Andrew said.

‘Because I love Neil, I’m not going to complain about your lack of manners,’ Allison snapped.

Neil’s mind got temporarily stuck.  
  
‘Love?’ he repeated.

Allison’s eyes softened.  
  
‘Lie down, Neil,’ she said softly. ‘I’ll heal your leg.’  
  
With Andrew’s help, Neil got his shaking, uncooperating body in bed. Allison shooed everyone to the back of the cottage to give Neil some space, before she removed his pants and looked at the wounds.  
  
Her hands were soft and worked quickly.  
Neil didn’t feel a lot.  
  
He stared at Andrew, who was sitting next to him, one hand in Neil’s hair.  
  
‘Almost done,’ Allison said. ‘Then I’ll leave the rest of the healing over to you, Andrew.’  
  
Andrew was silent for a few breaths.  
Then he said, ‘Neil doesn’t need me to heal.’  
  
Staring at Andrew’s expressionless face, Neil wondered if that was true.  
It felt a little like a lie hidden between truths.  
  
Neil needed to heal.  
And he didn’t need Andrew to heal.  
  
But—  
  
‘Yeah, sure,’ Allison said, and she sounded like she was rolling her eyes. ‘But you could make it a little easier.’  
  
☽

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter; Nicky shrugged. ‘Sure. As long as we’re not taking grandpa with us.’
> 
> SO the next chapter's another Nicky chapter! :D 
> 
> Also. Yeah. I did NOT enjoy writing this scene.
> 
> Thank you for reading anyways <3  
> If you want, please let me know what you thought :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> So I was totally not getting frustrated with this new game and decided to instead spend my time better and upload another chapter... 
> 
> DAMNIT MIRANDA YOU WILL GO TO PROM WITH ME  
> (you should go play "Monster Prom" it's fun AND FRUSTRATING HECK)
> 
> Enjoy!

_  
Nicky  
  
_ ✧  
  
Of course Renee would give him the eyes.  
The "I need to talk to you alone" eyes.  
  
So Nicky reluctantly followed her outside, the warmth still surprising him.  
This eternal spring weather was a nice consolation prize for leaving behind another warmth.  
One he’d never felt before.  
  
And now Renee was going to tell him he needed to face the fire again. Stand in its warmth, totally entranced by the flames,  
only to walk away from it.  
Again.  
  
‘Will you go with me?’ Renee asked.  
  
It would hurt like a bitch.  
More like, it was already hurting,  
but Nicky would do whatever it took to keep his family safe.  
  
He shrugged. ‘Sure. As long as we’re not taking grandpa with us.’  
  
✧  
  
But Nicky had grossly underestimated how it would feel  
when Erik walked towards them, a tentative smile on his beautiful face.  
  
‘You’re back?’ he said, but it sounded so unsure it felt more like a question.  
  
‘We need to speak with Jean,’ Renee said.  
  
It took Erik one second too long  
to drag his gaze away from Nicky and look at her.  
  
Noticing should feel like sunshine and smiles and all those sappy feelings,  
but Nicky just wished he didn’t feel this.  
  
He wanted to do the right thing, but Erik made it hard not to choose for himself.  
  
‘Oh,’ Erik said, clearly not expecting Renee’s request. ‘I’m sure he’ll be here in a few hours. He normally walks in when the sun sets.’  
  
Renee nodded. ‘I’ll see if I can talk to Jeremy beforehand.’ Her eyes shifted to Nicky. ‘I’d like to do this alone. Would you mind…’  
  
‘No, no, go,’ Nicky said. ‘I can entertain myself! I’m very good company, especially to myself.’  
  
Nicky didn’t lie that often,  
but this one slipped between his lips before he could stop it.  
  
And Renee was walking away before he could stop her too,  
even though he’d said _go_.  
  
It was the same as telling Erik he couldn’t build a home with him.  
  
He hadn’t meant one word of it.  
  
Erik was staring at him.  
Nicky could feel his gaze.  
  
‘You don’t have to keep me company…’ he said with a laugh, but it came out a little forced.  
  
‘It’s no problem,’ Erik replied. ‘Like you said, you’re very good company.’  
  
No way could Nicky’s cheeks refuse this prime opportunity to blush.  
Not when there was no way to hide the redness.  
  
‘Anything you want to do?’ Erik asked.  
  
_Marry you._  
  
Nicky bit his lip to stop the treacherous words, to stop himself from betraying his family.  
  
‘Whatever you want,’ he said instead.  
  
Erik laughed,  
and it sounded so wonderful that Nicky could no longer resist sneaking a peek at the wonderful, beautiful face of this ethereal being.  
  
‘That might be dangerous,’ Erik smiled, eyes sparkling as he looked at Nicky like he’d been waiting hours and hours to do it again.  
  
Yeah, Nicky’s cheeks would stay red for all eternity.  
Maybe it could be his new profession.  
Blushing for a god.  
  
‘Surprise me,’ Nicky challenged anyway. ‘I’m sure I can handle it.’  
  
Erik leaned closer,  
smiling like he really wanted to be this close,  
like he wanted to be even _closer,  
_ and it made Nicky forget about everything around them.  
  
‘I’m going to show you the sky,’ Erik whispered.  
  
Nicky already felt like he was floating.  
  
✧  
  
There was a tower, at the edge of town,  
obstructed by clouds.  
At least, that was what it looked like because Nicky could barely see the roof.  
  
‘Does it ever end?’ he asked.  
  
‘Yes,’ Erik laughed. ‘Come on, let’s get to the top.’  
  
‘I’m not sure—what if I fall off?’  
  
Erik looked briefly at the tower, then back to him.  
He smiled unsurely,  
but still very, very beautifully.  
  
‘I won’t let that happen. I’ll catch you before you hit the ground.’  
  
Nicky immediately believed that Erik would never let his feet touch the ground,  
and his steps felt as light as clouds as he followed him up the stairs.  
  
They seemed to walk forever in this quiet tower, but in reality it was probably just over a minute.  
  
Erik waited for him at the top,  
like the god that he was.  
  
Nicky’s smile couldn’t be stopped.  
  
‘We can go outside,’ Erik said, pointing to a small door.  
  
‘You say can, but I feel like this isn’t real,’ Nicky said a little nervously.  
  
‘I can squeeze you to show you it’s real.’  
  
No, not a good idea.  
Think of the family.  
  
Erik opened the door  
and the sky was behind him.  
  
A harsh wind played with Erik’s hair, making him look absolutely adorable.  
  
Erik held out his hand to Nicky,  
who thought of the family and wished them well  
before taking Erik's hand and walking outside.  
  
Nicky was amidst the clouds.  
Everywhere he looked, it was pale blue, and white, and soft and fluffy  
and surreal.  
  
‘This isn’t real,’ Nicky breathed, staring wide-eyed at the world.  
  
Erik squeezed his hand.  
He still hadn’t let go.  
  
‘Yeah, you have to squeeze harder than that,’ Nicky joked.  
  
The wind whipped around his head,  
making him feel light and airy.  
  
‘Maybe it’s not so bad to be somewhere in between for a while,’ Erik murmured. ‘To let dreams and reality overlap. To _really_ let yourself dream.’  
  
It sounded surreal,  
but that was exactly why it fitted in the here and now.  
  
Nicky’s eyes were filled with wonders,  
with the infinite sky, far away from the world below.  
  
‘I dream of building a home with you,’ Nicky said.  
  
‘I’d have to court you first,’ Erik replied softly.  
  
Nicky’s throat felt small.  
  
‘I’d love that.’  
  
Because it wouldn’t take any effort, he knew, to love Erik.  
And it wouldn’t be anything other than weightless,  
and wonderful,  
to be loved by Erik in return.  
  
But down,  
down below,  
was the earth and responsibilities and things Nicky needed to face.  
  
‘I think we need—’  
  
‘Can you…’ Erik interrupted him quickly, then fell silent.  
  
Nicky turned to look at him, and found Erik was already looking.  
  
All the wonders in the world honestly didn’t compare to this feeling.  
Nicky knew.  
Could say this with absolute confidence,  
because he was standing between the clouds.  
  
‘Can we not think for a second?’ Erik asked shyly.  
  
‘You know that’s very difficult for me. You’d have to like, kiss me, to make me shut up.’  
  
Wait.  
_Crap._  
  
Even though his words drifted away between the clouds,  
Erik sure as hell had heard them, judging by his wide eyes and red cheeks.  
  
Well, at least they matched.  
  
Except the blush on Erik’s cheeks looked like a _divine_ gift  
and Nicky felt the need to whisper thank you.  
  
Though he was blushing,  
Erik was still looking at Nicky,  
still holding his gaze.  
  
‘I think I’m going to follow your advice,’ Erik said quietly.  
  
The thought alone blew away all the words inside Nicky’s mind.  
  
He nodded, and closed his eyes.  
  
And though the wind was blowing harshly  
nothing could keep their lips apart.  
  
The first touch felt like heaven,  
like falling endlessly through the clouds,  
softness brushing against him.  
  
Nicky was afraid of moving, of crashing down,  
but Erik’s warm lips guided him gently,  
and Nicky figured he only had one real chance at kissing between the clouds, so he followed Erik’s lead and firmly pressed their lips together.  
  
When Erik leaned back,  
Nicky had a bittersweet taste on his lips.  
  
‘This would’ve been a first date,’ Erik said quietly.  
  
‘It would’ve been successful,’ Nicky answered. He tried to smile but tears were burning behind his eyes.  
  
Then, the sun broke through the clouds,  
its rays a warm orange, announcing that they had to go back.  
  
‘Renee is probably waiting for me,’ Nicky said reluctantly.  
  
Erik’s smile was sad.  
  
‘She isn’t the only one.’  
  
✧  
  
Nicky wasn’t really paying attention to the conversation.  
  
He _was_ paying attention to Jean’s behaviour however.  
Because Jean was being very touchy-feely.  
  
From the moment he’d walked into the comfortable hall, he’d greeted Jeremy by putting a hand on his neck, dragging his fingers over his back, shoulders, arms, legs.  
  
And not just once.  
No, no, _all the time_.  
Honestly.  
  
Nicky eyed their joined hands.  
  
It was the calmest Jean had been so far,  
though his eyes kept darting every possible way.  
  
He must be on edge.  
Nicky wondered if that was why he was touching Jeremy all the time.  
  
‘I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t important,’ Renee said quietly.  
  
Aside from the low voices talking in the hall, there was a tense silence.  
Jean had a hard time keeping his eyes on Renee, Nicky could tell.  
  
But while Jean seemed to be angsting, Jeremy was rubbing his thumb in smooth circles over the back of Jean’s hand.  
  
A spike of pain stabbed Nicky in the most unpleasant way.  
Which was a lot, as stabbing was already unpleasant.  
  
He quickly looked away from their hands.  
  
‘I don’t want to leave my home behind,’ Jean said in a tight voice.  
  
‘You know he’s going to come here too, right?’ Renee said. ‘Eventually, he’ll want to take over this village too.’  
  
Oh, Nicky knew who they were talking about.  
Wait.  
  
‘Why do we need Jean?’ he whispered to Renee, leaning closer.  
  
‘No,’ Jean said immediately. ‘No one else gets to know.’  
  
A tired sigh escaped Renee’s lips. ‘He’ll know eventually.’  
  
But Jean’s eyes were hard and unforgiving, and Renee needed him to be forgiving, to say yes to whatever question she was asking, so Nicky waved his hand at Jean’s face.  
  
‘Pff, I’m totally fine with not knowing. What’s the fun in knowing exactly what happened...?’  
  
_To Andrew_  
was how Nicky wanted to end that sentence.  
  
But it seemed his admission had calmed Jean down enough to make him nod tightly.   
Still angsting very much it seemed.  
  
Jeremy leaned against Jean and rubbed his hand calmly over his partner’s arm.  
  
And Nicky was kind of offended that Jean had the nerve to be so uptight and sad about life when he had someone beside him. Someone who would support him.  
  
No, hold up, let’s lower the bar here.  
  
He had someone who was _there_ for him.  
  
Against his will, Nicky’s eyes travelled to the right corner of the hall.  
  
Erik was talking with two girls.  
Who were—  
  
Nicky immediately wanted to slap himself for looking.  
_Stop it.  
__Think of your family.  
  
_ ‘Thank you so much,’ Renee said in relief.  
  
_Oh._  
Nicky tuned back to the conversation.  
  
‘Give me a day,’ Jean said reluctantly. ‘But I can’t guarantee the others will listen, let alone want to join.’  
  
‘That’s okay,' Renee said. 'But we don’t have long. Will we be able to leave in two days?’  
  
Jean nodded.  
It wasn’t a happy nod,  
but then again, nothing Jean seemed to be doing was happy, aside from when he was looking at Jeremy.  
  
Nicky’s eyes drifted back to the right corner, but this time, he pinched his leg to stop himself.  
  
His eyes had stopped  
and his leg now hurt,  
but his lips still remembered.  
  
‘I’m tired,’ Nicky announced, moving to his feet. ‘Let me know when you need my help. Or, you know, when we’re leaving again.’  
  
The fires inside the large hall burned brightly, cheerfully. Flames danced up and down, left and right, reminding Nicky of the dances he’d shared with Erik.  
  
_Dammit._  
  
Nicky bit his lip to stop from calling out Erik’s name.  
A shock of feeling burst through his bottom lip, reminding him reminding him reminding him that dreams were up in the sky, up with the gods, and he was a mere mortal down here that should stick to simply dreaming.  
  
In his room, he fell down on the bed without having looked at Erik.  
  
✧  
  
Nicky couldn’t sleep.  
  
Across the room, Renee was lying still and breathing quietly.   
Her hair fanned over the pillow, and she looked pale and grey in the dark room.  
  
Nicky's feet touched the cold floor for maybe a second before he was swearing quietly  
and quickly padding to the wardrobe for his socks and shoes.  
  
Nicky walked downstairs as quiet as he could, but the whole building seemed to be deserted.  
  
All the fires were out.  
  
Still, Nicky felt the urge to go outside, to get some air so he could maybe stop thinking about what he would be leaving behind. Again.  
  
He walked towards the large doors, but stopped when he heard soft voices coming through the walls.  
  
‘You know I don’t like leaving you behind.’  
  
‘I can come with you. I’m not entirely useless, you know. Who exactly heals you after fights?’  
  
Silence.  
Nicky took a few quiet steps forward.  
  
‘I mean, it might even be _better_ if I come with you. I can heal you if something goes wrong.’  
  
‘No. I’ll feel better if you’re here.’  
  
Oh, Nicky recognised that angsty no.  
This was Jean and Jeremy talking.  
  
_Damnit_ , was his immediate second thought.  
They were even claiming midnight conversations under the stars?  
  
Well, Nicky had kissed in the clouds, so there.  
  
Wait-  
Jeremy had said he healed Jean?  
Healed as in… literally having magical hands?  
  
Nicky tuned back into the conversation.  
  
‘Promise me you’ll return to me,’ Jeremy whispered. ‘I’m sorry if that’s selfish, but I want you to promise me.’  
  
‘I can’t promise that.’  
  
Nicky rolled his eyes.  
Geez, just promise the guy.  
  
A heavy silence seemed to settle between the two lovers, and Nicky felt his stomach turn and swish in jealousy.  
He didn’t care that it was a sad silence.  
He wanted those too.  
Wanted them all,  
wanted to hear all of Erik’s silences.  
  
He just wanted a chance to get to know him, to know what Erik was actually saying in his silence.  
  
‘I love you,’ Jeremey said quietly.  
  
‘If love was all it took, I’d always come back to you,’ Jean answered with absolute certainty.  
  
Nicky gaped, staring at the door, staring at the lovely, aching words.  
Okay, so maybe Jean wasn’t all angst.  
  
‘The sun’s rising,’ Jeremy said.  
  
Jean grunted,  
and honestly, Nicky could relate.  
There went his chance to sleep.  
  
But Jean’s grunts didn’t seem to stop.  
What the hell were they doing out there?  
  
‘Good luck,’ Jeremy said.  
  
Huh?  
  
A low growl, something half-human, half-animal, vibrated through the air,  
and then something was scratching the ground outside.  
  
Shocked and scared, Nicky took a step away from the door.  
  
‘I won’t forget,’ Jean groaned, his voice full of _agony_ and something twisted.  
  
What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck  
  
Nicky’s heart pounded fast in his chest and he took another trembling step away from the door.  
  
Then, something large and heavy  
slammed against the hall’s heavy doors, the shock making them shutter and clang against each other.  
  
Whatever was struggling out there growled again, and Nicky wondered if Jeremy and Jean were even alive, and what the _fuck_ was happening. Should he call for help? Should he get Renee?  
  
Spinning so quickly on his heels that he nearly tripped, Nicky made for the stairs only to stop dead in his tracks at the sudden sound piercing through the air.  
  
A howl.  
  
A monster.  
  
✧

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; Aaron released his grip on Neil with an angry yell.
> 
> I get so many feels writing Nicky chapters???  
> Also all the other chapters... it's a theme.
> 
> Thank you for reading <3 <3  
> And let me know what you thought, if you want!
> 
> WHY DOES NO ONE WANTS TO GO TO PROM WITH ME  
> FRUSTRATING GAME


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> Can I just thank you all for being so great? <3 You should listen to the song 'Have It All' by Jason Mraz, because those lyrics are really cute and it's sometimes nice if someone says those words to you <3 And well, now I'm sending them to you!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> OH almost forgot  
> TW: butts touching (starts at the fifth moon and ends at the next moon)

  
Neil couldn’t sleep.  
  
Though the mismatched curtains—one blue and one green—were drawn over the window, they didn’t close entirely.   
  
A strip of moonlight shone through,   
landing on Andrew’s bare leg,  
thrown over Neil’s own.  
  
The touch made him want more,  
made it impossible to fall asleep.  
  
Every time he closed his eyes he imagined touches.  
Could feel Andrew’s lips moving over his.  
Neil didn’t even need to imagine.  
  
It made his breath hitch, made his body thrum like a string on an instrument.  
  
Neil wanted nothing more than to feel Andrew’s hands on him again.  
  
The cottage was quiet aside from the other's quiet breathing.   
It was quiet enough that Neil heard the blankets rustle  
as Andrew moved closer,   
and pressed his nose against Neil’s shoulder.   
  
Immediately, the warmth inside Neil’s body mellowed out, made his muscles weak.  
  
An urge rose up, one Neil didn’t want to ignore, so he slowly turned his head  
and pressed a kiss against Andrew’s forehead.  
  
Andrew breathed in sharply. Waking up.  
  
He blinked a few times, his eyelashes barely brushing Neil’s arm before he looked up.  
Looked at Neil in confusion, like he was wondering why Neil was here, before his eyes were drawn to the window and realization hit, waking him up fully.  
  
‘Almost time,’ Andrew said quietly.  
  
‘Can I come with you?’ Neil asked, watching Andrew’s face, and wanting nothing more than to reach out and trace his fingers over every line. His cheeks. His forehead. Down the bridge of his nose.  
  
Andrew nodded, which was unusual.  
Because it wasn’t explicit consent.  
  
But then Neil noticed Andrew was getting lost in watching,  
lost in looking  
at Neil.  
  
Andrew's gaze was like a touch,  
and Neil wanted it to be real.  
  
‘You can touch me,’ he whispered.  
  
Andrew’s eyes stared into his for a few burning seconds  
before he lowered his head,   
leaning closer and closer and closer until his nose was lightly trailing over Neil’s neck.  
  
Neil shuddered with every exhale.  
  
‘I want to breathe you in,’ Andrew said, voice low.  
  
‘ _Yes,’_ Neil gasped, reaching up and tangling one hand in Andrew’s hair, wanting to pull him even closer.  
  
He could feel each and every one of Andrew’s breaths against his skin  
and it made him feel alive.  
Like he was running through the woods,  
finally living.

Andrew’s teeth scraped against his neck  
and his tongue dragged over Neil’s sensitive skin, making him choke on a moan.  
  
‘ _Yours—_  I’m—’ Neil gasped, but Andrew growled lowly, the sound vibrating against his chest.  
  
It took Andrew five, deep, ragged breaths before he replied roughly, ‘Not mine.’  
  
It took Neil one breath to ask, ‘Mark me.’  
  
In response, it took Andrew not even one breath,   
broken off by a groan,   
before his mouth was back on Neil’s neck.  
  
Neil tightened his hand in Andrew’s hair because it was all he could do to hold on,   
as his newly healed skin bruised between Andrew’s lips.  
  
It was so perfect.  
  
And it was ruined by the sun rising,  
the soft rays of pale light streaming onto the bed, onto Andrew’s light hair and then his eyes as he leaned back.  
  
He was trembling  
and Neil wondered if it was because of the sun  
or him.  
  
Could he make someone like Andrew shiver?  
  
‘I need to go,’ Andrew said, voice rough.  
  
‘I want to mark you too,’ Neil said, the first two words feeling strange in his throat, on his tongue.  
  
Andrew watched him for an eternity.  
Watched him like Neil watched the flames.  
Entranced, slightly afraid.  
  
But then Andrew said, ‘Yes.’  
  
And tilted his neck to the side.  
  
This was so much more than touching,  
Neil thought as he pressed his lips against Andrew’s neck.  
  
Andrew shivered.  
  
This was going to be visible,  
Neil thought as he tasted Andrew’s skin with his tongue.  
  
A growl filled the cottage,  
louder than it should.  
  
Andrew’s hands reached up as if to push him away,  
but he didn’t.  
  
Nobody had ever wanted to show they belonged to him,  
Neil thought as he marked Andrew’s neck with his mouth.  
  
Andrew was breathing heavily.  
  
When Neil leaned back, he saw Andrew’s eyes were flashing bronze.  
  
He wondered if it was because of the sun,  
or him.  
  
☽  
  
Outside, the sun was barely visible behind the trees surrounding Bee’s house.   
Neil followed Andrew to the edge of the forest.  
  
It was strange to be the one to stay behind.  
  
But the thought was quickly gone when he heard Andrew’s laboured breathing, like he was in pain.  
  
Neil hated the sound.

He almost wanted to look away,  
but he didn’t want to waste these last few moments with Andrew by not looking at his hazel eyes, the small scar near his lips, and the red bruise on his neck.  
  
_Red_.  
  
Neil hated the colour  
but seeing it on Andrew’s skin made him think there were perhaps different shades of red.  
  
Perhaps painting Andrew in this longing shade of red would be lovely.  
  
‘Regretting it already?’ Andrew asked, voice tight, still rough.   
  
Neil swore he could feel the low vibrations in Andrew’s chest.  
  
‘Never,’ he answered.  
  
Andrew managed to give him a blank stare.  
  
‘ _Always_ using those words.’  
  
Neil smiled.  
Smiled, and then yawned, sleep catching him unexpectedly.  
  
Andrew’s stare softened a little.  
  
But then it hardened as a violent shiver wrecked Andrew’s body,  
as the outline of his arms and legs seemed to blur.  
  
‘Go back to sleep,’ Andrew growled, and Neil wanted to argue that he should focus on himself, but Andrew suddenly fell to his knees, back bowing as his hands- claws dug into the earth.  
  
The sky was painted a pale orange as the sun rose higher, as with a last wheezing breath, Andrew’s body was gone  
and the wolf stood in front of Neil.  
  
For a second, it felt just like those months ago.  
  
But where there had been cold and grey  
now there was warmth and green.  
  
Neil sank to his knees  
and held out his hand, calmly watching the wolf.  
  
‘I asked you then if it would hurt more than fire,’ Neil said.  
  
The wolf walked closer.  
Pressed his head against Neil’s hand.  
  
It wasn’t the bravest.  
But maybe the fact that Andrew couldn’t reply was better.  
  
‘But I know now that loving you could never hurt.’  
  
To the wolf’s sensitive ears, Neil’s whisper must’ve been  
so  
loud.  
  
☽  
  
When Neil opened his eyes, the cottage was bright, and Allison was looking down at him with a grin on her face.  
  
‘Good, _good_ morning, Neil.’  
  
The sounds of someone being busy in the kitchen and the smells of bread and eggs slowly registered in Neil’s mind. Breakfast. His stomach gave a low growl.  
  
‘Don’t think I don’t know what you almost did,’ Allison teased, still grinning. ‘Getting it on with us in the room. For shame, Neil.’  
  
‘He did _what?!’_ Aaron suddenly shouted through the relatively small room.  
  
Neil sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  
  
Red bloomed across his vision, reminding him of the red on Andrew’s neck.  
It reminded him of the shivers, the gasps, the wet touches-  
  
Heat pooled low in his stomach, and to his horror and surprise, Neil felt himself getting hard.

He barely registered that Aaron was standing in front of him now.  
Glaring at him.  
  
‘You did _what_ in the cottage?’  
  
Neil ignored him and looked down at the blanket over his lap.   
Oh, it didn’t show that much.  
  
‘I don’t know exactly...’ Allison hummed, pretending to think for a moment. ‘But I definitely heard sucking.’  
  
Aaron’s face scrunched in on itself, like he’d eaten something very sour.  
Then his arm shot out and grabbed Neil’s shirt, pulling him closer to his angry face.  
  
‘Listen very closely,’ Aaron started. Neil felt the blanket shift and just hoped it wouldn’t slip off. ‘I don’t want you anywhere near my brother, you hear me?’   
  
‘I don’t think that’s possible,’ Allison said. ‘They’ve got huge boners for each other.’  
  
The biggest lemon in existence must’ve slipped into Aaron’s mouth  
because his face was a mix of regret and disappointment and _agony_.  
  
Neil snorted.  
‘And I thought I was weird about sex.’  
  
‘I’m not weird about it!’ Aaron snapped.  
  
‘Uhuh,’ Allison said.  
  
‘I just don’t want them doing _that._ ’  
  
‘Sex?’ Neil asked.  
  
‘You know what I mean!’  
  
‘Not really,’ Neil lied. ‘You only said “that”.’  
  
‘Maybe he means baking?’ Allison piped up. ‘I heard Andrew was bad in the kitchen.’  
  
‘ _No_!’ Aaron said, ‘I meant-’  
  
‘Let’s just hope he’s not as bad in bed.’  
  
‘Oh,’ Neil said, grinning. ‘Don’t worry about _that_.’  
  
Aaron released his grip on Neil with an angry yell.  
  
‘ _Ugh_ , forget it!’ he shouted, stalking away.  ‘Just don’t do that anywhere I can hear or see it.’  
  
‘That,’ Neil said.  
  
Aaron shot him a nasty glare before angrily sitting down at the table.  
  
‘Excellent timing,’ Bee smiled, carrying a basket of bread. ‘Breakfast is ready.’  
  
All throughout breakfast, Aaron was sulking.  
  
Neil didn’t pay much attention to him.  
His thoughts kept returning to the feeling of Andrew’s nose pressed against his arm,  
their legs tangled on the bed.  
  
The thoughts made all this warmth travel through his body, and he didn’t know what to do with either.  
  
‘Oh, dear,’ Bee suddenly spoke up. ‘Seems we forgot to heal a spot on your neck. Look at that bruise!’  
  
While Aaron’s head swivelled around so fast Neil was sure he could hear his bones creak,  
Allison choked on her bread.  
  
Aaron’s eyes narrowed.  
It took him one breath,  
two,  
thre-  
oh no, he got it.  
  
Aaron jabbed his finger at Neil’s chest.  
  
‘I _don’t_ like you,’ he hissed.  
  
Which was kind of an improvement because at first, it had been hate.  
Neil could still remember the hatred in Aaron’s eyes,  
the anger.  
  
Going against his every instinct, Neil watched Aaron’s eyes for that same kind of explosive, raging anger, but just found  
irritation.  
  
‘I told Andrew I love him,’ Neil said.  
  
Silence.  
  
Aaron’s eyes widened in surprise,   
staring at Neil like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.  
  
For a second, Neil wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have said.  
But the warmth inside his chest was pushing, was glowing, was telling him to tell everyone about this feeling.  
  
‘Neil…’ Allison said softly.  
  
She was looking at him with such a soft, soft look in her eyes that Neil wondered how he hadn’t associated the word with her before.  
  
Aaron’s finger finally fell away from his chest.  
  
But Aaron refused to look at him, staring hard at a spot on the table in front of him.  
  
‘I’m really happy to hear that,’ Bee said. Smiled. She always seemed to be smiling. ‘I wish you two the best of luck.’  
  
‘Oh, he didn’t say it back,’ Neil said. ‘I said it when he was...’  He looked to Aaron, suddenly unsure if he knew about the wolf.   
  
But before he could finish his sentence, Allison burst out laughing, her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders as she leaned forward, and laughed.  
  
‘Oh, Neil…’  
  
☽  
  
The meadow was so green.  
  
The grass was so soft.  
  
Neil wanted to let himself fall back into the green,  
spread his arms and look up at the sky.  
  
But someone was walking his way.  
He turned, and was surprised to see Bee walk towards him.  
  
‘How did you know I was here?’ he asked, as soon as she sat down.  
  
‘Oh, this is one of Andrew’s favourite spots,’ Bee answered, brushing her hand over the grass and giggling at the feeling. ‘Ooh, that tickles.’  
  
Neil followed her example, letting the tiny green blades of grass tickle his fingers. He liked the sensation.  
  
‘Neil,’ Bee started. ‘I’d like to talk to you about Andrew, if you don’t mind.’  
  
‘Do you think that’s fair?’ Neil asked.  
  
Bee looked confused for a second, before her eyes widened, hands waving in the air as if to wave away his concern.  
  
‘Oh, no, no, I asked Andrew if I could talk about this. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anything he doesn’t want me to.’  
  
A warm breeze pushed lightly at the meadow,  
lifting Neil’s hair.  
  
He nodded.  
  
‘I wanted to tell you about a year ago. Andrew knows what happened because I told him, not because he remembers. Especially those first months were difficult. The shift was costing him a lot,’ Bee said. ‘Made him black out frequently, because the wolf took over most of the time. Its instincts are very strong, and can affect him even while he’s human. Andrew trained for months to get himself under control.’  
  
‘His eyes,’ Neil suddenly realized. ‘They flash when the wolf’s instincts are strong.’  
  
Bee nodded.  
  
‘It also shows in the touches, the marking.’ Bee smiled at him. ‘As I’m sure you’ve noticed.’  
  
Neil’s hand immediately reached up and touched his neck,  
touched the mark that didn’t hurt.  
  
‘Though Andrew says it’s inconvenient, I wanted you to know…’ Bee fell silent. She looked up at the sky for a few moments. ‘It was bad. The burn wounds on his chest… Gosh, just r-remembering.’ Bee paused. ‘His throat was slit. And he was bleeding so badly. When I found him, he was lying there… All alone, in the woods. So I dragged him to the cottage, sure that I was too late, but to my surprise the wounds started closing, and then his body temperature went up, and he was burning up. And when the sun set, he changed.’  
  
‘Into a wolf,’ Neil said.

‘Yes, he stayed in that form the whole night, and the following day. I wondered if the curse was permanent, but when the sun set again that day, all of a sudden, I had this confused boy in my garden.’ Bee giggled. ‘After that, the changes started happening like you know them. Human at night, wolf by day.’  
  
The realization hit Neil.  
  
‘The wolf saved him.’  
  
‘It sure did,’ Bee smiled.  
  
‘But I don’t get… You said he was alone in the woods?’ Neil asked.  
  
‘Yes, but… I’m sorry, I don’t know everything. Maybe you should talk to Aaron.’  
  
Neil made a face.  
Talking to Aaron was always a little difficult, and a whole lot annoying.  
  
But sitting in the green, soft grass, where he shared so many touches and kisses with Andrew, Neil couldn’t really find the redness of his irritation,  
so he moved to his feet and walked back to the cottage.  
  
☽  
  
Legs propped up, somehow fitting himself entirely on the wonky, mismatched kitchen chair, Aaron was reading one of Bee’s journals on herbs. Neil knew this because in large letters, the book said ‘HERBS’.  
  
There was even a little plant drawn on the front.  
  
Aaron was so engrossed in the journal that he only noticed Neil when he let himself fall back on the bed.  
  
Another silence.  
It wasn’t heavy or intense.  
Maybe a little awkward.  
  
Neil lifted his hand up in the air  
and stared at the scars,  
twisting the skin on the back of his left hand.  
  
Wriggling his fingers, he saw the lines and distortions change, become something different and new with every movement.  
  
It surprised him.  
  
He always thought the scars were permanent.  
But they changed.  
Were changing in front of his eyes.  
  
Neil’s chest felt light.  
  
‘Uh,’ Aaron said roughly. Awkwardly. He cleared his throat. ‘I don’t like you around Andrew.’  
  
‘I know,’ Neil replied.  
  
‘Do you?’ Aaron asked. ‘I thought he was dead for a year. _A year._ For a year we tried to move on, tried to pick up our lives, but every goddamn day I had to see that empty chair, that empty bed.’ Aaron swallowed. ‘And now… Now I have him back. But you’re here,  claiming all his attention. I want to hate you for making my brother forget me.’  
  
‘I don’t think-’ Neil started, but Aaron cut him off with a rude, ‘Shut up. I’m not done talking.’  
  
Neil closed his mouth.  
Waited.  
  
Aaron took a deep breath.  
  
‘But I’m not going to deny my brother love.’  
  
Neil sat up in surprise.  
Aaron was looking at the table again.  
  
‘I heard what you said, okay?’ he scoffed. ‘I know I’ve been making Nicky stay with me. I know Nicky’s unhappy. So I’m not going to do the same to Andrew as I did to him.’   
  
Because his hands were lying on the table, Neil could see them clench in anger as Aaron muttered, ‘I won’t make the same mistake again.’  
  
The words sounded familiar.  
They reminded Neil of what Aaron had said to him days ago.  
  
_Because I never want to fail again._ _  
__Never again._ _  
__  
_ ‘You won’t,’ Neil said.  
  
‘The fuck do you know,’ Aaron snapped.  
  
‘You saved my life.’  
  
Aaron’s glare didn’t look like he was proud of that.  
  
Neil shrugged.  
  
‘Thank you. For not letting me die, and for not standing in the way.’  
  
‘Stop thanking me,’ Aaron muttered, but the irritation was now gone. Or, no, wait, there it was again, as Aaron suddenly lifted his head and pointed an angry finger at Neil. ‘But I don’t want to _see_ or _hear_.’  
  
‘You mean that?’ Neil asked, fighting against the urge to smile.  
  
Aaron’s eyes narrowed.  
Then they shifted away awkwardly.  
  
‘You know what I mean.’  
  
☽  
  
Usually, it was hard to wait for the sun to set.  
To wait until he could slip out of his father’s house, fear making his breath go quick, making his hands tremble until his feet touched the forest ground.  
Until he was _heaving_ in the cold, cold air.  
  
But now it felt almost impossible to wait for Andrew to get back.  
  
Neil let his head fall back against the cottage’s brick wall.  
  
He’d told Andrew he loved him.  
  
The words felt foreign in his mind, always burned away before they could ever fully take shape.  
  
He stared unseeingly at the clouds in the sky.  
  
It was so selfish, wasn’t it?  
  
Forcing Andrew to deal with this.  
To have to carry this burden, to walk around with this useless knowledge.  
  
_You’re worthless._ _  
__No one wants you  
_ were his father’s words.  
  
And suddenly, Neil felt relieved, remembering, his breath leaving him in a big woosh.  
  
It was okay. Andrew could just brush aside his love.  
It wasn’t that special.  
It couldn’t be, because his father had never cared about Neil’s feelings.  
  
Why would anyone care?  
  
_Why would anyone care about you?  
  
_ Neil closed his eyes.  
He didn’t want to see the sky anymore.  
  
But it didn’t mean the sky didn’t want to see him, its rays still shining down on Neil, stubbornly, as it slowly descended in the sky.  
  
The red behind Neil’s eyes was bleeding.  
  
_Crunch_ said the few fallen leaves on the ground.   
  
Something was breathing heavily.  
Neil could feel eyes on him, could feel something was watching him.  
  
He wasn’t ready for this, but nobody ever asked him if he was ready for it anyway. His father had never stopped to consider if maybe Neil was ready to get his skin burned and peeled away so Neil learned to deal with it  
and he would deal with it now.  
  
A short howl pierced the quiet, orange air, but it quickly turned into a choked off growl.   
Gasping breaths.  
  
Neil opened his eyes.  
  
Andrew was on his hands and knees, the earth torn to pieces underneath his fingers, like he had torn apart Neil with his touch.  
  
And he was looking at him.  
Was slowly moving to his feet.   
  
Neil’s breath quickened.  
  
With every slow, quiet step, Andrew moved closer, his eyes flashing bronze, trapping Neil with his gaze.  
  
It didn’t look like anger.  
  
Crouching down in front of him, Andrew stared at Neil for a moment longer before closing his eyes and taking a few slow breaths.  
  
‘Tell me to stop,’ he said, voice so, so low.  
  
Neil stared at Andrew in surprise.  
He couldn’t help it.  
  
‘You’re not angry?’  
  
Andrew’s eyes snapped open, and his hand shot out.  
But he stopped inches from Neil’s chest.  
  
‘ _Tell me to stop_ ,’ he said through clenched teeth.  
  
If Neil had been unsure if he knew what love was  
it became absolutely clear as he watched Andrew  
and trusted him enough to say,  
  
‘Don’t stop.’  
  
Andrew’s hand gripped his shirt and pulled him to his feet,   
grabbed his hand and pulled him inside the cottage.  
  
‘Out,’ Andrew said simply.  
  
‘I’m sorry?’ Allison said.  
  
Everybody inside the cottage stopped what they were doing to look in confusion at Andrew.  
  
It was Bee who seemed to catch on the quickest.  
She wiped her hands on her apron and shook her head with a smile on her face.  
  
‘Oh, to be young,’ she giggled, then quickly grabbed her basket and cloak. ‘I’ll be gathering some herbs,’ she announced before leaving the cottage.  
  
‘Excuse me, should I know what’s going on?’ Allison asked, looking at Neil.  
  
‘Last chance,’ Andrew warned.  
  
Aaron moved to his feet, grabbing Bee’s journal from the table, and glared at Neil.   
  
‘Whatever you have to discuss, it better be important,’ he threatened.  
  
His words seemed to be the final clue for Allison, whose face turned _very_ smug.  
  
‘Yes, Neil, you better communicate with Andrew,’ she said with a grin, following Aaron to the door. ‘And use _all_ your words.’  
  
Neil had no idea what she was talking about.  
But that wasn’t an unusual feeling with Allison.  
  
When the door closed, Andrew turned around and looked at Neil for a silent moment before picking him up with strong arms.  
  
Surprised, Neil wrapped his legs around Andrew and held onto his shoulders as he walked them towards the bed. He laid Neil down on the mattress, then immediately climbed over him.  
  
Andrew’s legs,  
and arms  
touched him.  
His skin.  
  
And now that Neil knew what Andrew wanted,  
Neil wanted more.  
  
Andrew leaned down, brushing his nose along the line of Neil’s neck, along his collarbone, breathing hot, hot air against his skin, and making his mind spin.  
  
‘Tell me to stop,’ Andrew whispered, mouthing at Neil’s neck.  
  
‘ _Never_ ,’ Neil gasped.  
  
A huff of hot air was blown against his neck.  
Almost like a laugh.  
  
Warmth bloomed through Neil’s chest  
and he smiled.  
  
He tangled his fingers through Andrew’s hair, pulling his head up until Andrew’s gaze was burning into him, until their lips were almost touching.   
  
‘Never,’ Neil repeated against Andrew’s lips, grinning.  
  
Andrew’s irritated growl was lost between their mouths as he closed the distance and smashed their lips together.  
  
Though there was impatience, their mouths moved slowly against each other,  
and it felt like Neil could finally catch his breath after a day of nerves.  
  
After maybe a lifetime of fear.  
  
Andrew leaned back a little. He was breathing heavily.  
He grasped the edge of Neil’s shirt.  
  
‘Take this off?’  
  
Neil’s heart was hammering inside his chest.  
  
‘Only if you promise to mark me everywhere,’ he answered.  
  
Andrew’s eyes flashed bronze  
and Neil felt sharp claws pressing against his skin.  
  
But not breaking.  
  
Never breaking.  
Or maybe only his shirt.  
Because Andrew quickly ripped it apart before leaning down, curling his fingers into Neil’s waistband and pulling it down a little, exposing Neil’s hip.   
  
He licked the sensitive skin there, slowly following the curve downwards.  
Neil’s stomach clenched.  
  
Andrew scraped his teeth against Neil’s stomach, and growled, ‘I promise.’  
  
Neil opened his mouth to reply but the words got stuck in his throat  
as he realized.  
  
Before, every mark on his skin had been met with the denial  
that he wasn’t Andrew’s.  
  
‘This is coming off,’ Andrew growled, hands holding the edge of Neil’s pants.   
  
‘Yes,’ Neil managed to answer.  
  
He was still surprised that Andrew would be willing to mark him everywhere.  
  
What did it mean?  
  
His pants hit the floor.  
And then Andrew dragged his nails over Neil’s inner thighs, the sensation _shooting_ through his body, making him fly up, his breath leaving him at once.   
  
He looked down at Andrew, who was already watching him.  
  
‘Stop thinking,’ he said, before leaning down and mouthing at his underwear.  
  
Neil’s legs trembled.  
  
‘ _Y-yes_ ,’ he agreed shakily, letting himself fall back on the bed.   
  
Mouth still on him, Andrew stroked Neil’s shaking legs up and down,  
as if to calm him down,  
but Neil was sure he could never stop shaking. It felt so good, it felt so good to finally feel Andrew’s touch everywhere, to not be touched out of hatred,  
and he wanted it so badly he was going insane.  
  
‘More,’ he groaned.  
  
In mere seconds, his underwear was off.  
And he was completely naked.  
  
Grabbing him near the base, Andrew didn’t waste any time on words, wrapping his lips around his cock and slowly inching down.  
  
The heat the heat the _heat_ was definitely too much and Neil’s eyes rolled back when he felt Andrew’s tongue press against the underside, felt his lips move up and down and up and down and up and down-  
  
Neil moaned.  
His hands gripped the sheets tightly.  
  
Andrew’s hands trailed over his thighs, gripped the backs of his knees and pushed his legs apart.   
Legs that were shaking badly.  
  
Neil didn’t even notice.  
  
Because Andrew’s mouth was moving hotly, wetly, over his erection, erasing every thought in his mind.  
  
When Andrew moved off, he immediately replaced his mouth with his hand, spreading the slick over Neil’s cock as he started mouthing at Neil’s thighs,   
sucking the skin between his lips and biting all over all over _all over_ until Neil’s legs felt bruised.  
  
‘Kiss me, kiss me,’ Neil gasped, reaching down, fingers scratching Andrew’s shoulders.   
  
Immediately, Andrew moved up and pressed his lips warmly against Neil’s gasping ones.   
  
Neil wrapped his arms around him, and was startled to find Andrew was still wearing all his clothes.   
He leaned back, his fingers following the edge of Andrew’s shirt.  
  
‘I want to feel your skin.’  
  
Neil pressed his fingers against Andrew’s bare skin.  
So warm.  
  
But frozen too.  
  
Andrew was not moving,  
staring at the bed,  
his breathing heavy and loud in the quiet cottage.  
  
Leaning closer, Neil pressed his lips against Andrew’s neck.  
Once, twice, three times.  
  
Andrew’s breath hitched.  
  
And the word yes was a whisper between his lips,  
but he still didn’t move.  
  
‘I want to feel your skin,’ Neil whispered, mouthing at the sensitive skin, causing Andrew to shiver. ‘I want to feel your body.’   
  
Heat coursing through his veins, pooling low in his gut, Neil dragged his teeth over Andrew’s neck, and  
bit  
down.  
  
Andrew jolted.  
Groaned.  
  
And then his hands flew to Neil’s hair, twisting in the strands, as he took struggling breaths.  
  
‘I can’t control myself,’ Andrew groaned. Growled.  
  
His body was trembling slightly.

So Neil whispered the question against his skin,  
the question he’d never been asked.  
Wondering how many times someone had asked _Andrew_.  
  
‘What do you want?’  
  
One heavy breath.  
Two.  
And then Neil was pushed back onto the bed, Andrew holding down his wrists, sucking more bruises on his neck and it felt so so so good.  
  
Neil tugged at Andrew’s shirt, at his pants, and with another growl, Andrew leaned back and undressed himself within seconds before leaning back down again.  
  
But this time, he lowered himself more slowly.  
  
First, their bare legs touched,  
then their stomachs, so soft and so warm,  
then their chests, their arms, and  
their lips.  
  
Neil felt like he was drowning in the warmth.   
He was wrapped up in Andrew’s scent and warmth and touch and he never wanted to feel anything else but this, trailing his hands over Andrew’s skin, trailing them everywhere he could reach.  
  
And then Andrew started to move.  
  
Neil threw his head back, and moaned.  
Wrapped his legs tightly around Andrew’s hips.  
  
Every slide of their cocks together made Neil gasp, made him struggle to breathe, his hips raising to meet every move.  
  
Andrew leaned down and sucked a bruise on Neil’s collarbone.  
  
The pleasure of being marked, of finally belonging, of allowing himself to truly feel wanted was so much so much not enough.  
  
Neil bit his lip to keep in his groan.  
  
‘What do you want?’ Andrew returned the question.  
  
‘ _More_ ,’ Neil wished.  
  
‘I never-’ Andrew stopped.  
  
Neil’s eyes flew open,  
only to see Andrew looking surprised.  
  
The laugh burst free from Neil’s chest, shaking his body in a totally different way.  
  
‘Never?’ he repeated, grinning.  
  
Andrew gave him an unamused look.   
Which only made Neil laugh harder.  
  
Watching him, and waiting for the laughter to stop, Andrew trailed a finger over Neil’s chest, his touch light and teasing.  
  
‘You’ve never fucked someone before?’ Neil asked.  
  
‘You have?’  
  
‘No.’  
  
Andrew’s finger stopped.  
  
He pressed his palm flat against Neil’s chest,   
and moved with his every calm breath.  
His every inhale  
and exhale.  
  
‘I’m not going to fuck you,’ Andrew said.  
  
That would be okay,  
if it wasn’t for the discomfort in Andrew’s voice.  
  
‘Tell me what you want,’ Neil immediately said, worried, propping himself up on his elbows. ‘What you need.’  
  
The response was unexpected.  
Without a word, Andrew gripped Neil’s legs and lifted them up.  
  
Neil gasped in surprise, but immediately let Andrew move between his legs, adjusting his position as Andrew leaned down, nearly bending his body in half.  
  
‘There’s two ways to do this,’ Andrew said in a low voice. ‘And it’s not going to be _fucking_.’  
  
Neil blinked in confusion.  
But then Andrew moved his hips, dragging his cock against Neil’s erection and lower, lower, lower.  
  
Neil gasped.  
  
‘Don’t you want-’  
  
‘I want,’ Andrew interrupted him.  
  
But-  
Two ways?  
  
Sliding his strong arms underneath Neil’s back, Andrew lifted him up and switched them so Neil was straddling his hips.  
  
He couldn’t help shifting his hips, sliding his erection against Andrew’s skin, smearing precome over Andrew’s hips.  
  
Andrew’s eyes flashed  
and his hands flew to Neil’s hips, holding them tightly.  
  
Closing his eyes, Andrew took a deep breath.  
  
‘It’s going to hurt.’  
  
But the fire was already inside Neil’s body  
was already blooming wherever Andrew touched him,  
and besides  
  
_loving you could never hurt._ _  
__  
_ Oh, Neil thought dumbly.   
There was the answer.  
  
Andrew’s answer.  
  
He dragged his hands over Andrew’s chest  
up up up  
over his neck  
and then cupped his face.  
  
Leaning in, Neil pressed a soft kiss against Andrew’s lips.  
  
‘Make love to me,’ he whispered.  
  
Though the words cost Neil one easy breath,   
moving through his lungs, past his heart, and up his throat,  
it seemed to take Andrew a few before he could even move.  
  
There was a strange look in his eyes,   
like he’d never experienced the feeling   
of losing your breath.  
  
Andrew trailed his hand, sharp nails gone, past Neil’s shoulders, between his shoulder blades and over the wasteland that was his back.  
  
Andrew’s touch, light and warm, made it feel like flowers could grow there after all.  
  
Neil leaned into the touch, and let his eyes fall close.  
  
But they shot open again when Andrew grabbed his ass,  
the touch definitely warmer than before,  
and pulled his hips forward, dragging their erections against each other.  
  
Neil moaned.  
  
Andrew pressed a kiss against his neck, making Neil shiver, shiver, shiver, before moving back. His hands encircled Neil’s waist and flipped their positions again, laying Neil down on the bed.

‘I’ll be right back,’ he said lowly, moving off the bed and walking to the kitchen, out of sight.   
  
The moment Andrew’s touch disappeared,  
Neil felt cold.  
  
And it felt wrong.  
  
The cold had always felt like relief and freedom and choices  
but now it felt like loneliness.  
  
Perhaps the cold had always been loneliness.  
And maybe not.  
Maybe it was the way Andrew’s warmth didn’t feel like suffocating, like choking.  
  
Maybe, there were more shades of red.  
  
When Andrew returned, he was carrying a small, stone pot. Neil watched him open it carefully.  
  
Inside was a golden liquid.  
  
‘Isn’t that what Bee uses to cook?’  
  
Dipping his fingers into the oil, Andrew nodded, and spread it over his fingers.  
  
‘Lie back,’ he told Neil, who scooted back immediately.   
  
Andrew followed him onto the bed.  
  
‘Open your legs.’  
  
Again, Neil obeyed without a doubt, wanting Andrew’s warmth and touch back.  
  
He’d probably trade it for anything in the world.  
  
Then,  
Andrew touched a slick, warm finger _there_ , and suddenly Neil understood why Aaron had called it _that_.  
  
He felt himself blush.  
He’d never actually thought about how this would go.  
  
It took Neil a few, slow, rubs _there,  
_ and Andrew’s hand on his knee,  
before he felt his breathing slow down again.  
  
‘Tell me to stop,’ Andrew said, pressing his finger against his entrance, pushing slightly. Not enough to slip inside.  
  
Neil shook his head.  
  
‘Neil.’  
  
Opening his eyes, because apparently he’d closed them, Neil watched Andrew watching him. Andrew’s eyes were calm, and so beautiful,  
catching Neil like they always had.  
  
‘You’re not close enough,’ Neil breathed.  
  
He saw Andrew’s jaw clench,  
saw his hazel eyes swirl and nearly light up with their intensity.  
  
But Andrew took control before it got that far.  
  
And he pushed a finger inside Neil.  
  
Neil’s hands immediately flew to the blankets, gripping them tightly.  
  
Oh, that was definitely weird.  
  
‘Too much?’  
  
‘Not yet,’ Neil managed, staring at the ceiling, feeling weird and a little cold.  
  
Andrew started moving his finger, slowly, pushing and pulling.   
The feeling was strange, and foreign, and Neil tried to breathe to calm himself, but his breaths were too short, too quick.  
  
Then his name.  
  
‘Neil,’ Andrew said. ‘Look at me.’  
  
That.  
Neil wasn’t sure he wanted to do that.  
  
He gritted his teeth against the movements inside him, trying again to take a calming breath.  
Didn’t work.  
His breathing was too fast and this was too slow and too cold and-  
  
‘Neil,’ Andrew repeated, the hand on his knee tightening. ‘Look at me.’  
  
Neil did.  
  
‘Breathe,’ Andrew said.  
  
Neil tried.  
Forced himself to take a deep breath even though his heart was racing.  
  
He took in the faint scent of lavender,  
the abundance of flowers they had picked,  
and the smell of honey and earth.  
Andrew.  
  
He breathed out  
and let go of some of the fear.  
  
‘It’s too slow,’ Neil said. ‘Too cold.’  
  
‘Faster will hurt.’  
  
But Neil shook his head and reached out, needing Andrew’s warmth above and around him, not caring that it would hurt because this was too cold and too lonely.

He wanted every breath to taste like Andrew.  
  
Without a word, Andrew moved closer, leaning over Neil, their chests touching, and it was warm warm warm.  
And then Andrew was kissing him and that was so, so wonderful.  
  
Groaning into the kiss, Neil wrapped his arms around Andrew’s neck,  
feeling his body heat up,  
feeling Andrew’s finger slip further inside.   
  
But it was an afterthought when he could kiss Andrew,  
when he could taste taste _taste_ himself and Andrew, together.  
  
His chest felt so warm, near to bursting, and pleasant sparks were shooting through his legs and stomach and body, and he felt so full-  
Oh.   
Neil’s eyes flew open  
and all his focus was now on Andrew’s fingers-  
Oh.  
_Fingers_.  
  
O-oh.  
  
Neil gasped.  
  
‘That’s- _mmm_ , more,’ he moaned.  
  
Andrew dropped his head to Neil’s collarbone.  
He was breathing  
so heavily.  
  
Neil had missed all of this, lost in the kiss.  
But he wouldn’t anymore.  
  
He wanted more  
and he was going to feel it _all.  
_  
‘I want you inside,’ Neil groaned.  
  
Andrew shivered.  
Neil saw his shoulders shake.  
  
Then.  
  
‘ _Yes_ ,’ Andrew growled, moving up and leaning back.  
His fingers slipped out of Neil, who shuddered at the sudden feeling of emptiness, at the cold feeling of loneliness.  
  
Andrew reached for the oil,   
and Neil had a thought.  
  
‘Can I do it?’ he asked.  
  
‘No.’  
  
Andrew let the oil drip onto his cock.  
  
Neil watched it drip down.  
Heat curled pleasantly in his stomach.  
  
Suddenly it made sense why they used this for cooking, because he wanted to put his mouth all over Andrew’s erection.  
  
‘Why... not?’ Neil asked belatedly, staring.  
  
‘I won’t be able to control myself,’ Andrew answered. Crawled to him. ‘Stop staring.’  
  
Neil grinned up at him.  
  
‘I thought you wanted me to look at you.’  
  
Andrew rolled his eyes.  
  
‘At my face.’  
  
‘You should’ve said.’  
  
Andrew grasped Neil’s legs and wrapped them around his hips.  
  
‘Really.’  
  
‘Really,’ Neil smiled, breath hitching when Andrew’s cock touched his hip.  
  
‘Then…’ Andrew said, voice low, aligning his cock. The warm oil smeared against Neil’s skin. ‘I’ll tell you what I’m going to do.’  
  
The pressure on Neil’s entrance was a lot a lot and not enough. Using his legs, still wrapped tightly around Andrew’s hips, Neil pulled Andrew _closer_.  
Pulled him in.  
  
So warm.  
  
Neil gasped and squeezed his eyes shut. The feeling of warmth and fullness and knowing it was all Andrew left him burning with want.  
  
Andrew took a shaky breath.  
  
‘I’m going to move,’ he said roughly, hands holding onto Neil’s hips. They were shaking too. ‘And you're going to look at me until you come.’  
  
Neil could feel the words on his skin,  
heating him up.  
  
He opened his eyes.  
  
‘Okay,’ he whispered.  
  
Andrew moved.  
Holding Neil’s gaze, staring into his eyes, Andrew moved his hips slowly, agonizingly slowly, but it was already so so so much.  
  
Neil’s hands reached out, pulled Andrew back on top of him, moaning into his mouth when the position only made Andrew slide in deeper.  
  
It felt amazing.  
The heat inside him was burning with every shift and slide.  
But it didn’t burn like Andrew’s eyes, staring heavily at Neil.  
  
Every breath was a sweet struggle, was expanding his chest, was blowing out arousal and heat.  
  
And Andrew was still moving so slowly.  
It made Neil lose his mind.  
  
Eyes rolling back, he bit his lip to keep from moaning as his body shook with every thrust.  
  
He failed.  
  
Hands holding on tightly to Andrew’s shoulders, Neil dug his nails deeper into the skin.  
Every breath between them was desperation and wanting and _needing_.  
  
Andrew leaned back again,  
watching Neil as he fucked in-  
as he made love to him,  
_love_ ,  
as he gripped Neil’s cock and started stroking in time with his thrusts.  
  
It was very, _very_ , difficult to maintain eye contact.  
  
Every slide  
and push inside  
made Neil’s breath hitch.  
  
It felt so good so good _so good_.  
  
Andrew was watching his every reaction.  
Watching him.  
  
Neil moaned, gripping Andrew’s arm, the blankets, anything to hold on because he felt like he was slipping on the frozen forest ground, the heat rising inside his stomach.  
  
His legs were shaking, trembling.  
  
And still he shifted his hips, still he tried to get Andrew closer and deeper and more more more until he was burning, shivers wrecking his body as heat spilled over his stomach, burned into his skin and it didn’t hurt it didn’t hurt and then Andrew tried to move away, and Neil _panicked_.  
  
He quickly sat up, wrapping his arms, his legs, around Andrew and holding him close.  
  
It meant he could feel the shivers.  
  
Andrew groaned, growled, his chest heaving with breaths he didn’t have as he filled Neil with warmth.  
  
Every inhale was gasping  
every exhale pushed itself out of their lungs.  
  
But it was okay.  
  
Feeling tired, and so happy, Neil leaned his head against Andrew’s collarbone.  
  
‘I thought you were going to talk to me,’ he said, still breathing heavily.  
  
‘It was harder than I thought,’ Andrew admitted.  
  
‘Yeah, I felt that.’  
  
Andrew was quiet.  
  
And Neil laughed.  
  
☽  
  
Aaron didn’t laugh.  
  
His glare was intense.  
  
‘What the fuck did I tell you,’ he hissed.  
  
But Neil and Andrew were dressed. Had put away the oil, and even cleaned the bed.  
Or well, Andrew _had._  
  
Neil had offered to help, but Andrew had growled at him not to move.  
  
When Allison walked in, she took one, smug, look at them before sitting down at the table.  
  
‘Yeah, I’m glad I’m not a werewolf,’ she said. ‘You two must stink so badly.’  
  
Smelling like the opposite of loneliness,  
of warm touches and together,  
_of Andrew  
_ could never stink, Neil thought, offended.  
  
‘What?’ Aaron asked. ‘Who’s a werewolf?’  
  
He effectively cut off everyone’s breath in the room.  
  
☽

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; ‘Oh shit,’ Allison said.
> 
> nngh this chapter was so long. Also I have never written the... penetration... before... it was an... experience... 
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING! <3  
> And, oh, you don't have to comment if it makes you feel uncomfortable to comment on something sexual! :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!!
> 
> Suddenly, here's the last chapter.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy it <3

  
‘Oh shit,’ Allison said.  
  
Aaron’s eyes narrowed.  
  
‘What the fuck are you talking about?’  
  
‘I’m cursed,’ Andrew said. ‘To turn into a wolf every day.’  
  
‘Oh he said it,’ Allison said.  
  
‘Can you shut up?’ Aaron snapped at her.   
  
Allison looked offended.  
  
‘I could never.’  
  
‘I know we just returned, but maybe we should give the boys some space, hm?’ Bee suggested, keeping up her friendly smile despite Aaron’s confused, angry face.  
  
But before anyone could agree, Andrew moved to his feet.   
Made for the door.  
  
‘We’ll go outside.’  
  
Neil fought against the urge to roll his eyes or call out that he could walk just fine and that Aaron and him could stay inside.   
From the corner of his eyes, he saw Allison grinning at him.  
  
‘I don’t want to go outside,’ Aaron replied.  
  
Andrew stopped.  
Turned around.  
  
‘I mean, what the fuck are you saying?’ Aaron continued. ‘That you’re a werewolf?’  
  
‘Yes.’  
  
Aaron walked closer, like he wanted to observe his brother from up close.  
  
Arms crossed over his chest, Andrew endured the stares.  
  
‘How?’ Aaron finally asked.  
  
‘I don’t know,’ Andrew answered. ‘Bee found me in the woods. I changed that day.  
  
Horror passed over Aaron’s face,  
and Neil could see the memories, the awful memories of that day, push his shoulders down.   
  
Aaron stared at the ground, jaw clenching.  
  
‘I wanted to take you with me,’ he confessed through gritted teeth. ‘But he wouldn’t let me. His men dragged me away from you. I thought they were going to burn your body... I had no idea they would just _leave_ you there.’  
  
‘He?’ Neil asked.  
  
Aaron glared at him over his shoulder.  
  
‘Your _father_ ,’ he snapped.  
  
Neil had no reply.   
There was no argument against his father’s actions.  
  
He turned his attention back to Andrew, who was watching Aaron with an almost detached look on his face. But his arms were crossed so tightly that it was almost impossible to see the sharp nails, the claws. The wolf’s anger.  
  
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Aaron asked, voice nearly breaking on the last word. Nearly.  
  
‘You didn’t ask.’  
  
‘I don’t have to, I’m your _brother_ ! You could’ve told me!’ Aaron snapped. His voice was rising in anger and pain.   
  
And he wasn’t talking about the wolf anymore.  
  
But Andrew didn’t reply.  
  
‘All this time I thought you were dead! And you never thought, oh fuck, maybe I should tell him I left to go live in the woods? What the fuck is wrong with you!’  
  
Andrew’s eyes flashed bronze.  
  
‘If you think I wanted to leave, there’s something wrong with you.’  
  
‘But you didn’t tell me! You could’ve sought me out!’  
  
‘Come on. Think,’ Andrew said. ‘Think long and hard, and maybe you’ll find the reason I stayed here. But just in case you can’t, I’ll tell you. The wolf’s a fucking monster.’ He bared his teeth in a twisted version of a smile. ‘And I’m no different.’  
  
At first Neil could only see part of Aaron’s angry expression,  
but when Aaron turned around,   
Neil saw he’d been wrong.  
  
Aaron’s expression was twisted,  
caught between pain and anger.  
  
‘So why’s _he_ different?!’ Aaron shouted angrily, pointing towards Neil.  
  
Yet Andrew’s eyes remained focused on Aaron.  
Unwavering.  
Flashing.

Then he turned around  
and walked out the door.   
  
☽  
  
The sky was dark,  
and when Neil closed the door behind him, he was reminded of the feeling of slipping out the house and sneaking off to the woods.  
  
He peered into the darkness,  
but saw nothing, so he started following the non-existant path towards the meadow.   
  
It was definitely trickier in the dark.   
  
_Snap_ said the twigs underneath his feet,  
much like Aaron had.   
  
Maybe even Andrew.  
  
With the night sky above, the dark trees around  
and the forest ground under him,  
the urge to run was big,  
but after the first few strides, a pang of pain shot through Neil’s lower back.

Oh.  
Pausing, Neil touched the spot.   
  
Another invisible mark.  
  
‘You must really like pain,’ a voice said in the darkness.  
  
‘I think I just really like being yours,’ Neil answered, holding in a smile.  
  
The night was quiet.  
  
‘How did you find me?’ Neil asked.   
  
‘You smell like me.’  
  
The smile spread across Neil’s face.  
  
Then, something warm touched the back of his left hand.  
Neil reached out, interlacing their fingers, and let himself be pulled towards the woods,  
into the darkness,  
towards the meadow.  
  
The quiet of the darkness was like a blanket.  
  
Suddenly something brushed against his legs  
and Neil startled before recognizing the softer ground underneath his boots. Looking past Andrew’s silhouette, he saw the meadow.  
  
They sat down in the colourless grass,  
quietly staring at the sky for a dozen breaths that were as easy as blinking.   
As easy as loving Andrew.  
  
‘Why am I different?’ Neil asked.  
  
He could hear Andrew breathe out loudly.  
  
‘Because when I first met you, I was a wolf. And you asked me if I was the monster.’  
  
☽    
  
The next day, Neil helped Allison gather plants for her poisons.  
  
Bee told them she never made or used poison, so, walking through the forest, Allison was thrilled to find so many plants in full bloom.   
  
Neil wondered briefly if she was so focused on the task because she missed Renee.   
But he was just as focused, asking questions about the properties of plants like foxglove, lily of the valley, white snakeroot and oleander.

Aside from the fact that they could kill with nothing but leaves, their colours made Neil stare  too.   
They didn’t look like they would be capable of killing.  
  
He glanced at Allison,  
thought back on Renee,  
and couldn’t help but think they were exactly like these plants.   
  
Their pretty exterior a misleading thing, hiding their toughness underneath.  
  
☽   
  
It was almost time.   
  
Deep orange burst through the cottage’s windows, alerting Neil that the sun was setting. That Andrew would be coming back.  
  
He moved to his feet  
at the same time that Bee gasped  
at the same time that the sky above  
_thundered_ .  
  
Everyone turned to her.  
  
She had been sitting at the table, working on her journals, but she’d dropped her pen and was staring at nothing in particular, her gaze far away.  
Her face had turned very pale.  
  
Another low, dangerous rumble sounded from above.   
It reminded Neil of Andrew’s warning growls.  
  
‘Does it thunder here often?’ Allison asked.  
  
Bee shook her head, her lips moving like she was trying to tell them something, but no words were spoken.  
  
Aaron, who’d been standing in the kitchen, quickly moved towards her.  
  
‘What’s wrong?’  
  
It seemed the sound of Aaron’s voice, or maybe the sight of him,  
jarred her out of her staring.   
  
She blinked, then turned back to them in shock.  
  
‘The barrier,’ Bee whispered. ‘It’s broken.’  
  
☽  
  
Neil’s feet were running before he knew it,  
the wind whipping through his hair, picking up the ends of his red cloak and throwing it into the air  
like fire was chasing after him.  
  
Running back through the spring forest,  
the green trees, the soft moss, the deadly flowers were a blur to him.  
All he could focus on was getting back to the winter woods.   
  
His father couldn’t come here.   
If he found this place,  
if he found the others, or Andrew-  
  
Neil didn’t allow fear to grab him,  
instead pushing himself to run faster and faster.  
  
_Crunch_ said the leaves underneath his feet  
as he left behind the warmth  
and entered the cold.  
  
Something bright red burned in the distance.   
Fire.  
  
Neil’s heart skipped a scared beat  
but he didn’t allow himself to stop or think too closely about what those flames had always done to him.  
  
They’d taken away his breath  
and wanted to take away his new family.  
  
But this time, Neil would use his last breath  
to blow them out.  
  
The murmur of voices could be heard through the woods as Neil got closer, so he slowed his pace and stalked silently through the trees.    
  
From a distance, he could see his father’s men, holding torches, knives, axes and-   
a hammer.  
Standing next to his father was Romero, his grip on the huge hammer confident, and relaxed.  
  
A dark shape, almost a shadow, was lying at his father’s feet, and Neil tried to see who it was, but the light didn’t reach that far. Whoever it was, their blood was smeared on Nathan’s arms and face, dripping down his throat.   
  
If Neil didn’t know any better, he would think his father had _drunk_ it.  
  
‘Why is it not broken,’ his father hissed, chest heaving, staring with wild eyes at the forest. ‘I thought-’  
  
‘ _Found you_ ,’ someone whispered in Neil’s ear.  
  
Lola.  
  
Neil immediately brought up an elbow to jab her in the face, but Lola was faster, gripping his arms and twisting them behind his back before bending him forward.  
  
Her touched burned.  
  
‘It wasn’t nice of you to let me down like that, you know.’  
  
‘Fuck you,’ Neil spat, violently struggling against her grip.  
  
‘But now I’m going to let you down!’ she exclaimed, voice too loud, too loud, too- ‘Nathan! Look who I found!’  
  
Dread filled Neil’s heart, body, his legs, making them heavy as he struggled against Lola’s hold.  
But she pushed him forward, yanking him back if he stumbled and nearly fell down.  
  
Her fingers, wrapped too tightly around his wrists, were uncomfortably hot, too hot, were _burning_ , the slow, all-encompassing sensation of fire against his skin slowly shredding Neil’s resolve to pieces.  
  
They were close now.  
His father was watching them arrive with a wild smile.  
  
‘Nathaniel!’ he exclaimed, almost like he was delighted to see him. ‘How nice of you to join us. And it’s such an important moment too.’

Neil met his father’s eyes while he struggled against Lola’s hold.   
Pain shot through his arms with every jerk.   
  
His father couldn’t find Bee’s cottage.   
Andrew’s home.  
  
‘You don’t have to break the barrier,’ Neil said. It was the first thing he could think of. ‘You don’t have to, I’ll come back.’

The words spilled over his lips like blood. Like blood after his father had taught him another lesson.  
  
His father laughed.  
  
‘You’ll just run away again. Run back to the woods, to your beloved _monster_.’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t take that risk, Nathaniel. You know it’s not safe here. You know how many people the monster has killed. But now it’s _our_ time to kill.’  
  
Losing Andrew’s touches, his gaze, his presence, his words-  
It could never be as painful as losing him  
forever.  
  
The words were burning Neil’s throat  
but he pushed them out.  
  
‘I won’t go back to the woods again.’  
  
His father stared at him.  
Leaned forward.  
  
‘Look me in the eyes when you speak to me,’ he whispered.  
  
Taking a shuddering breath, taking in the aching cold of loneliness, Neil looked at his father and repeated,  
‘I won’t go back into the woods.’  
  
The ice cold of his father’s blue eyes pierced into his own, stared at him for two struggling breaths before Nathan burst into laughter.  
  
‘You really are stupid.’  
  
Behind him, Romero and the other men started laughing too.  
  
‘Did you honestly think I care about you enough? Have you not listened to a word I’ve been saying? _Nobody_ cares about you, Nathaniel. Not me, not your mother, and definitely not that monster.’  
  
The words burned deeper than Lola’s painful grasp on his arms.  
  
His father rarely talked about Neil’s mother.  
  
‘Besides,’ Nathan continued, gripping Neil’s chin and looking down at him in disgust. ‘You have nothing to trade me. You’re already here. And I’ll make sure you’re never leaving again.’  
  
At his words, Lola spread her fingers on Neil’s arms,  
burning  
away  
his skin  
and though he tried, _he tried_ ,  
Neil’s mind blanked for a moment  
and he screamed.  
  
His left hand was cramping badly.  
  
Through the haze, through the painful red red _red_ , Neil vaguely heard his father say, ‘Romero. Take care of it.’  
  
Lola giggled.  
‘Make sure he never runs again.’  
  
_Crunch_ said the leaves underneath Romero’s boots as he crushed them as easily as he had that man’s head.  
  
His hammer was swinging in the cold air as he walked towards Neil.  
  
Gritting his teeth against the burning, against the instinct to blank out, to not be here anymore, Neil still struggled desperately against Lola’s grip, jerking his arms as hard as he could.  
  
It only resulted in dragging her fingers over the fresh burns.  
  
Tears streaked down Neil’s cheeks at the intense, overwhelming _pain_.  
  
‘Come on, brother,’ Lola urged. ‘I want to have some fun again. The other boy struggled too much. It was _such_ a shame I only got to have him once.’  
  
_Red_ anger burst through Neil’s mind, his body, and he shouted, ‘I’ll _kill_ you for what you did to Andrew!’  
  
Lola laughed.  
  
‘Oh yeah, that’s right. His name was Andrew. Want to hear what I did to _Andrew_ , dear Neil? Want to hear how I burned, and cut into his flesh because he couldn’t just lie still and take it?’  
  
Her grip on his arms tightened until blood wasn’t flowing to his hands anymore. The numbness that settled in was a huge relief, and Neil took a gasping breath.  
  
‘Hold him still, sis,’ Romero said. ‘I’m gonna take a swing at his legs.’  
  
Neil’s head snapped up in panic.  
He was met with Romero’s nasty grin, too close for comfort, but that wasn’t what made Neil’s heart stop beating.   
  
Behind Romero, his father was holding an iron knife in the air as he slowly walked deeper into the forest, determined to tear the barrier to pieces.  
  
‘ _No!_ ’ Neil screamed, trashing in Lola’s arms, kicking at her, throwing his shoulders back to hit her with everything he could.   
  
One of her hands lost their grip.  
  
‘Fuck- you little shit,’ Lola cursed through gritted teeth, immediately reaching for him again.  But Neil quickly took a step away, not caring that his back was now turned to Romero for a moment.  
  
Using all his strength and speed, he brought up his leg and kicked _hard_ at the arm still holding him.  
  
_Crack_ said the bones in Lola’s arm.  
  
It sounded a hell of a lot more satisfying than the leaves.  
  
‘I’ll kill you for that!’ Romero shouted, and Neil heard the _woosh_ of his hammer swinging through the air.  
  
Without wasting a breath, Neil dropped to the floor, making himself as flat as he could.  
  
Something heavy fell beside him in the grass.  
  
Neil turned his head  
and saw Romero’s hammer.  
  
Then, someone behind him gurgled.  
  
Neil quickly turned around, moving to his feet but pausing when he saw Romero staring at him with wide eyes,  
while he was choking on his own blood.  
  
Romero’s neck was slashed open.  
  
And behind him was Renee,  
holding up a bloodied knife.  
A knife that could kill _all_ monsters.  
  
She wasn’t breathing heavily  
as Romero’s body hit the ground.  
  
Renee merely wiped the blood on her pants and held out her hand to Neil, hauling him to his feet.  
  
‘The barrier,’ Neil gasped. ‘He’s going to-’  
  
‘Let’s go,’ Renee nodded, immediately turning around and running towards the rest of his father’s men. Towards his father, who was now chanting words into the darkness.  
  
A scream pierced the air,  
making Neil stop dead in his tracks.  
  
Lola.  
Holding her broken arm at a weird angle, she staggered towards him, eyes blazing.  
  
‘I’ll kill you, you little shit!’ she screamed.  
  
Behind Neil, his father had stopped talking.  
  
There was a tense silence for maybe two, three gasping breaths,  
before it was broken by a howl.  
  
And another.  
And another.  
  
Wolves.  
  
Neil couldn’t take his eyes off of Lola, but he saw the surprise on her face, saw it turn into horror as he heard his father’s men start screaming  
as he heard growls, threatening and dangerous  
as he heard bodies drop to the floor.  
  
A flame sparked to life in Lola’s hand  
and she turned her focus back to him.  
  
‘I’ll murder you,’ she whispered.   
  
And ran towards him.  
  
Frantically looking around, Neil searched for something, anything, that he could use to defend himself against the flame growing in her hand, burning brighter and brighter.  
  
Suddenly, a green dust was surrounding Lola,  
tiny sparkling particles slowly swirling down.  
  
‘I’d like to see you try, _bitch_ ,’ Allison spat.  
  
In response, Lola just coughed.  
And coughed  
and coughed and coughed and coughed.  
Blood was streaming down her lips, her throat, staining the front of her dress.   
  
Then two hands grabbed the sides of her head  
and in one quick movement, twisted it _violently_ to the side.  
  
_Crack_ said Lola’s neck.  
  
She dropped dead on the ground.  
  
Behind her, Andrew’s eyes were flashing dangerously as he stared at Neil.  
  
It was like he’d been punched, so fast did his breath leave him  
and Neil wanted nothing more than to run towards Andrew but Andrew was already running towards him.  
  
‘I _hate_ you,’ Andrew said, glaring at him. Neil saw his shoulders were shaking. ‘Don’t think I can’t handle your father. I can, and I will,’ Andrew promised in a low voice.  
  
And then he ran past Neil,  
and it took Neil only one painful breath before he was running after him, though he nearly stopped dead in his tracks when he  
noticed the ripped apart throats,  
the torn off limbs.  
The dead bodies of his father’s men.  
  
But his father was nowhere to be found.  
  
‘Where is he?!’ Allison shouted, catching up.  
  
At the sound of her voice, Renee also came running towards them, her clothes bloodied, though it was not her ow-  
  
‘Is that _yours_?!’ Allison asked, panicked.  
  
‘No,’ Renee said quickly. ‘And I don’t know where Nathan is. He disappeared into the darkness.’  
  
‘He can’t be far,’ Andrew said.  
  
‘We have to check the barrier.’  
  
‘Don’t we have like, wolves?’ Allison spoke up. ‘Can’t they smell him?’  
  
Andrew shook his head.  
  
‘Too much blood. It messes with his scent.’  
  
Neil remembered the red splatters of _death_ across his father’s face and shivered.  
His father was still out there. Still alive.  
  
‘We have to find him,’ he said. ‘I’ll go look for him. Alone.’  
  
Andrew stared at him.  
  
‘Don’t be stupid.’  
  
‘It’s not stupid. I know he doesn’t care for me, but he won’t be able to pass up on the chance to hurt me. Pain is to him what the woods are to me. Hurting someone makes him smile.’  
  
Silence.  
In the darkness, the woods were quiet apart from the wolves’ heavy breathing  
and Andrew’s stare  
that screamed at him.  
  
‘No,’ Andrew said eventually. ‘I’ll-’  
  
A burning, blazing light suddenly flashed through the forest, illuminating everything, painting all their surprised faces an oppressive red.  
  
Somewhere, a tree was burning.  
  
Neil watched the high branches catch fire, watched them burn in the night sky.  
  
And he _hated_ his father for doing this.  
For taking away his air, his skin, for trying to take away his favourite place  
and for giving nothing in return but _fear_.  
  
So once again, Neil was already running before anyone could stop him.  
  
‘Where are you, you fucking coward?’ he shouted to the darkness, feeling the anger push his limbs further, push the words out of his mouth. ‘Couldn’t break the barrier, so now you’re throwing a hissy fit? You fucking child!’  
  
Neil heard the _woosh_ one breath too late.  
  
Romero’s hammer hit him square in the chest.  
All the air in his lungs was knocked away. Blown out.  
  
Neil fell on the ground, saw the trees above him clearly for one second   
before his lungs were _burning_ as he tried to take in air.  
  
Neil coughed and coughed, and then he heard his father laugh.  
  
‘So worthless... Here you are again, on the ground. Below me.’  
  
Neil looked up in time to see his father raise the hammer again.  
He quickly scrambled back, his burned arms scratching against the frozen ground as he managed to create some distance.  
  
With a loud _boom_ , the hammer smashed the ground barely an inch from his feet.  
  
‘Oooh,’ his father said, voice low, taking a step closer, ‘I never told you to move, did I?’  
  
Neil’s breath hitched as he watched the hammer fly into the air again.  
  
The fear the fear the fear it was holding him down was burning brighter than his newfound anger and Neil had to get away but he couldn’t-  
_he couldn’t_.  
  
A smile stretched onto his father’s face.  
  
‘In the end, you’re going to be obedient after all.’  
  
But  
even though he couldn’t move, that didn’t mean he couldn’t _talk_.  
  
‘Turns out _you’re_ the worthless one,’ Neil said, staring at his father in anger. ‘Because you couldn’t even break one, little barrier.’  
  
_Anger_ flashed over his father’s face.  
  
‘Don’t worry,’ his father hissed. ‘After I take you out, I _will_ break it. Your mother was a pathetic bitch for thinking she could keep me inside the village.’  
  
_What?  
  
_ Neil’s mind reeled.  
  
He knew his father couldn’t leave the village but-  
His mother?  
Was she the one behind the barrier?  
Had she seen what Nathan was becoming, and decided to keep him in a cage?

‘And you’re just as pathetic as _she_ was. I really should’ve killed you sooner.’ His father smiled. ‘But don’t worry, I’m going to erase the mistake that you are.’  
  
Still smiling, his father swung the hammer down on Neil’s legs.  
Or the place where his legs had been a second ago.   
  
Because before his father could hit him, Neil was knocked sideways, thrown aside by strong arms.  
  
‘Sorry,’ Andrew said, immediately moving to his feet again. ‘You have to get through me first.’  
  
There was no hesitation as he father adjusted his grip on the hammer before swinging it at Andrew.  
  
But he was slower than Romero had been, slower with this weapon because all those years, he’d only used knives on Neil.  
  
With an ear splitting growl, Andrew moved into the opening his father created after swinging  
and punched him in the face.  
  
His father staggered back a step. Before he could regain his footing, or his breath, Andrew _slashed_ his sharp nails over Nathan’s face.   
  
Skin  
peeled  
off.  
  
And blood was gushing out of the wounds into his father’s eyes, who screamed in pain and anger.  
  
Then more growls filled the air   
and leaves _crunched_ from every direction as the wolves started closing in on their prey.  
  
Andrew growled.  
The wolves jumped.   
Attacked.   
Their big, heavy bodies knocked Nathan to the ground, and kept him there.  
  
Within seconds, his father’s body was scattered through the woods.  
  
Silence.  
  
Neil heaved in a big breath of cold air  
and pushed himself to his feet with shaking legs.  
  
He took a step forward  
and another  
until he stood in front of his father’s mangled b-  
  
No.  
  
Neil breathed in,   
the scent of blood in the air for once not his,  
and corrected his thoughts.  
  
He was standing in front of _the monster’s_ mangled body.  
  
☽  
  
It was strange how it was over so soon.

Like a breath, in and out.  
Alive and dead.  
  
But the scars on his left hand, on his back,   
the fresh burn wounds on his arms and wrists  
told Neil that actually  
it was over so, _so_ late.   
  
☽  
  
Someone was walking towards him.   
  
Neil lifted his head and stared as the dark haired guy with flashing blue eyes walked closer,   
and held out his hand.  
  
Neil watched it.   
Blinked a few times.

A few more.  
Then shook it.  
  
He was actually shaking the hand of the person who murdered his father like he was saying thank you.

Was he?  
Hell yes.  
  
‘Thank you,’ Neil said.   
  
The other’s grip tightened for a second, before nodding.  
  
‘I’m Jean,’ he offered.  
  
‘I’m an orphan,’ Neil said, the realization suddenly hitting him.  
  
In response, Jean dropped his hand, and it fell back, knocking against Neil’s thigh.   
His muscles felt weak.  
  
‘Don’t talk shit,’ Andrew said, moving to stand beside Neil.   
  
He stared Jean down as he reached for Neil’s hand, interlacing their fingers, his thumb rubbing over the scars on the back of Neil’s hand.  
  
Neil couldn’t help his smile.   
Marking.  
  
‘You’re not an orphan,’ Andrew interrupted his thoughts boredly.  
  
‘No…’ Jean agreed slowly. ‘When you’re pack, you’re family.’  
  
The words sounded rehearsed  
and very genuine.  
It was a beautiful contradiction.  
  
‘Pack?’ Neil asked.  
  
Jean gestured to their hands, but before either Neil or Andrew could respond, Renee walked over.  
  
‘We should get back to Bee,’ she said. ‘Let her know what happened.’ She turned to Jean. ‘Thank you. For what you and your pack did for us.’  
  
‘We’re glad we could help,’ Jean replied through gritted teeth.   
  
At first Neil thought it was sarcasm, or an insincere statement, but then he saw Jean’s body shudder, saw his hands clench and unclench.   
It looked like he was in pain.  
  
Andrew took a step forward, angling his body so he was shielding Neil, but Renee seemed to understand the situation enough to quickly put a hand on Jean’s arm and gently pull him towards the spring forest.   
  
_Crunch_ said the leaves underneath Neil’s boots  
as he followed them  
as he left his father’s body behind.  
  
As he finally left   
his fear behind.   
  
☽  
  
Nicky’s scream of joy pierced through the night,  
lighting up the darkness in a way that only happiness could.  
  
‘Andrew I am going to hug you!’ Nicky yelled, running at full speed.   
  
Behind him, Bee was leaning in the door opening. Aaron was standing a little to the side, glaring at everyone, his arms crossed over his chest.  
  
Though Nicky was running fast, he still slowed down enough for Andrew to growl in warning, or to step out of his path and say no.  
  
But Andrew didn’t do any of those things.   
He just nodded once.   
  
Big tears fell down Nicky’s cheeks and a grin split his entire face as he all but _leaped_ onto his cousin, arms wrapping tightly around him.   
  
Andrew didn’t exactly return the hug, but he briefly rubbed his hand over Nicky’s back.  
  
And Jean’s words sounded through Neil’s mind again.  
Pack.  
Family.  
  
‘So you decided to come back this time, huh,’ Aaron muttered, clearly sulking.   
  
Nicky leaned back then, and took one red-eyed look at Neil before bursting into tears again, pulling him closer, hugging him while rambling in his ear how glad he was to see him alive and in one piece.  
  
In response, Neil patted him awkwardly on the back.  
  
Another light touch.   
On the small of his back.  
  
Neil was about to look over his shoulder, and Nicky’s curls, when the hand disappeared and Allison was walking past him.  
  
‘I don’t know about you, but I’m going the fuck to sleep,’ she called out.  
  
Nicky leaned back a little, though he was still holding onto Neil.  
  
‘How can you sleep when there’s all these _feelings?_ ’ he asked in shock.  
  
Oh, Neil could.  
Easily.  
Right now in fact.  
  
He felt himself sway a little on his feet.   
His muscles felt so weak.  
  
‘Nicky,’ Renee spoke up quietly, ‘Neil has been hurt. He needs to rest.’  
  
But it seemed like this was the first time Nicky saw Renee after the battle because he made a choked off sound, and his voice shot up in shock and disbelief.  
  
‘Are you for real?! Have you looked at all the blood on your body?’  
  
‘Not hers!’ Allison shouted before she disappeared into the cottage’s darkness.  
  
‘Nicky,’ Andrew said in a low voice. ‘Let go of Neil.’  
  
To Neil’s relief, Nicky did.  
Immediately, his arms were replaced by Andrew’s, who held on tight but not too much. He walked Neil towards the cottage with a bed.   
  
That last detail was vitally important to Neil’s weakened muscles  
and tired eyes.  
  
‘Don’t think I don’t hate you,’ Andrew threatened under his breath.  
  
But Neil’s eyes had fallen close  
and all he could focus on was the feeling of falling down on something soft and absolutely wonderful.  
  
‘Stay,’ he murmured to the boy who hated him.  
  
A warm weight settled behind his back.  
  
‘Until you tell me to go,’ was the whispered answer.   
  
☽  
  
The sunlight streaming through the window was such a soft way of waking up that Neil blinked and wondered what must be wrong.   
  
He stretched his arms hesitatingly, and flinched when the burns on his skin stretched painfully.   
  
With it came the painful realisation that it was morning.  
Andrew would be gone.  
  
Except when Neil opened his eyes, he was met with Andrew’s hazel ones, watching him from the edge of the bed.  
  
Neil reached out his hand.  
  
‘Touch me,’ he said sleepily, not believing Andrew was real.  
  
‘I heard that!’ Aaron yelled.  
  
Lifting up his head, Neil saw Aaron sitting at the table, balancing one of Bee’s journals on his raised knees, and glaring at Neil.  
  
But then Andrew trailed his fingers along the inside of Neil’s fingers, following their shape, tracing the lines on his palm,  
and Neil’s attention was immediately  
_caught  
_ by Andrew.  
  
‘How are you here?’ he asked. ‘It’s morning.’  
  
Instead of answering, Andrew reached for the string around his neck.  
Neil only noticed it now.   
  
It was a silver arrowhead.  
  
‘It’s an amulet,’ Jean said, walking into the cottage, his eyes fixed on the silver. ‘It absorbs power and deflects negative energy.’  
  
Allison snorted. 

Everyone turned to her.  
  
She seemed to be working on breakfast in the kitchen. When she noticed everyone looking, she quickly waved away their stares.  
  
‘Never mind me. Continue explaining your jewellery.’  
  
‘It’s not jewellery,’ Jean said testily.  
  
‘Uhuh.’  
  
Jean glared at her.  
  
‘Are you also wearing an amulet?’ Neil asked.  
  
Snapping his gaze away from Allison, Jean nodded curtly before pulling it out from underneath his shirt.  
  
‘You could’ve fooled me,’ Allison mumbled. ‘Deflects negative energy my ass.’  
  
Jean’s eyes flashed blue, but in the end ignored her and just testily put his amulet away again.  
  
‘It allows us to control the shift,’ he explained. ‘But only for so long. Because it’s made of silver it can take a toll on our instincts, or make the shifts too aggressive. We can safely wear it for three days in a row before we have to go back to our natural shift.’  
  
‘So it’s like a one time thing?’ Nicky asked.  
  
Neil hadn’t seen him in the room, so he guessed he was around the corner, helping Allison in the kitchen.  
  
‘No,’ Jean answered. ‘After three normal shifts, we can wear it again if we want.’  
  
Neil turned back to Andrew.  
  
‘Does it hurt?’  
  
Andrew shook his head and put the amulet away.  
Neil wondered who had made it.  
  
‘So why did you help us?’ Aaron asked suddenly. ‘I don’t see what you get out of this.’  
  
‘Because Jeremy is too kind for his own good,’ Jean answered with a sigh. ‘Believe me, a few of my pack were _not_ happy about this.’  
  
‘You have a whole pack?’  
  
Jean nodded.  
  
‘We mostly live in the woods surrounding the village, but many of us also have homes inside the village.’  
  
‘It’s such a great place,’ Nicky sighed.  
  
‘Our council is a lot more open minded than yours, yes.’  
  
‘But there’s also the town hall!’ Nicky exclaimed in excitement. He turned to Aaron. ‘Aaron, you should’ve seen that place, it’s surreal how many people and rooms fit in just one building! Oh! And they also have this never-ending tower…’ Nicky trailed off.  
  
‘Never-ending?’ Aaron asked.  
  
Nicky laughed, but it sounded a little forced.  
  
‘Nah,’ he said. ‘It ended alright.’  
  
☽  
  
The other wolves stayed for a full day.  
  
Everyone seemed a little cautious around each other, especially the wolves, who stayed in this form because they’d rather not mess up their shift schedule like Jean had done so he could talk to Renee.  
  
To Neil’s surprise, Andrew was the most… anxious, for lack of a better term, around the other wolves.  
  
He seemed to constantly want to be near Neil, but every time Neil reached out to touch him, he walked away again.  
  
It was confusing.  
  
To some extent, Andrew did the same with Aaron and Nicky, but they steered mostly clear from the wolves and Andrew was apparently okay with just keeping an eye on them.  
  
Neil observed all this from his spot on the ground, sitting with his back against the cottage and tentatively enjoying the sun.  
  
It was the first time he saw Andrew during the day, and it was enchanting.  
  
Andrew’s eyes seemed to light up in the sun,   
and Neil suddenly wondered for a breathless moment if it was actually better that he didn’t see Andrew like this so often.   
  
He’d have trouble breathing again.  
  
Jean sat down beside him,  
and though it wasn’t even a touch, just a brief brush of their shoulders before he settled back, Andrew’s eyes flashed as he stared at Jean for one, two, three tense breaths.   
  
Then Andrew turned back to Bee. Helping her out in her garden.  
  
Neil had been told, by Bee not Andrew, that this was something he did often, in exchange for letting him live with her. Bee had laughed then, and said she’d told Andrew he didn’t need to more times than there were trees in the forest.   
  
‘He has a lot of control over his instincts,’ Jean commented.  
  
Neil nodded.  
  
‘It’s not easy, at first,’ Jean continued. ‘Keeping the wolf in line. Things that scare you, that anger you, they get amplified. It’s hard to get a hold of yourself, to calm the wolf down.’  
  
Something brushed against the back of his mind.  
  
‘Fear too?’ Neil asked.  
  
Jean nodded.  
  
‘It’s a flee or fight response.’  
  
Neil turned back to watch Andrew.   
He observed the expressionless eyes,  
the nimble plucking of dead leaves,  
and the calmness and stillness in his posture.  
  
He’d always wondered if Andrew had been responsible for the murders.   
The first ones.   
  
Jean’s words echoed through his mind.  
  
_Flee or fight_ .  
  
For Neil it had always been flee.  
Run away because it was too dangerous to stay.  
  
But he wondered,  
no, he probably knew,  
that for Andrew it had been fight.  
  
Don’t let them get near  
because they could hurt you again.  
  
And though Andrew’s transformation had healed the physical wounds,  
the scars were still there, under the surface.  
  
It had taken him many months,  
but eventually Andrew had learned to deal with them.  
  
_Can I?_ he’d asked.  
  
_Always_ Neil’s mind whispered back to the memory.  
  
It made him smile a little.  
Which was apparently too much for Andrew, because he moved to his feet and walked over, staring down at Neil.   
  
Neil got the hint.  
  
☽  
  
Amidst the soft green  
the pale blue  
and the bright white  
Andrew’s hazel eyes were golden as they watched him.  
  
Neil wanted to reach out and touch  
while at the same time, he didn’t.   
  
He didn’t want to break the moment,  
this breathless moment of staring and _seeing_ .  
  
He wished Andrew would see something beautiful too,  
but he knew his eyes were ice cold.  
  
Andrew reached out and pressed a finger between Neil’s eyebrows,  
smoothing over his frown.  
  
‘Tell me,’ he said.  
  
The words were ridiculous and stupid.  
  
‘I wish my eyes weren’t this colour,’ Neil confessed. ‘I wish there was more than this _cold_ -’   
  
He stopped,  
surprised at his words.  
  
In response, still watching him, Andrew traced his finger down   
over the bridge of Neil’s nose  
and the middle of his lips.   
  
Neil’s pulse shot up,  
but Andrew merely let his finger fall back down in the grass.  
  
‘It’s not cold,’ Andrew said. ‘Have you seen the colour of the sky when it’s a warm day?’  
  
A startlingly, bright blue.   
The shade of blue that Andrew hadn’t seen for months and months.  
  
Neil opened his mouth  
words tripping up in his throat, running to be the first one out,  
but in the end all he asked was,  
‘Can I?’  
  
‘Yes,’ Andrew replied.  
  
The sun was so warm on their skin  
brushing against their hair,  
opening their eyes with colours.  
  
And when Neil leaned forward and kissed Andrew,  
he could taste the warmth.  
  
☽

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was such an experience to work on.  
> It was absolutely wonderful to work together with [requiemofkings](http://requiemofkings.tumblr.com/) !! Thank you so much for letting me write a story based on your art <3 
> 
> Not gonna lie, this story was A LOT of work, and a pain in the ass sometimes, but I'm still really happy with how it turned out :D BUT I'm even happier about all your wonderful support <3 I really couldn't have done it so happily without all of you :) 
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING <3 
> 
> And if you want to find me somewhere else, check my Tumblr (idnis.tumblr.com) !


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... okay yeah, Nicky deserved his ending too.

_Nicky_  
  
✧  
  
When Nicky returned from dozing in the sun, Allison and Renee were sitting on the bed with their legs and mouths intertwined.   
  
It could be cute  
but it was kind of a wet reminder that Nicky couldn’t have this.  
  
Sighing heavily, he sat down on a chair, content to wallow in self-pity for a while.  
  
‘That reminds me,’ Allison said, after pressing a final kiss to Renee’s lips. ‘The pack is leaving tomorrow.’  
  
‘So?’ Nicky asked, not bothering to hide the sadness in his voice.  
  
‘We thought it might be nice if they had an escort,’ Renee said softly.  
  
‘You’re leaving again?’  
  
‘Nope,’ Allison said, popping the ‘p’. ‘I just got my girlfriend back, I’m not sending her away again.’  
  
A small, happy smile spread on Renee’s face, making her usually soft expression look like sheets that had just been washed.   
Though those were all wrinkly, so maybe it wasn’t the best comparison.  
  
It was just the softest expression Nicky had ever seen.  
  
And he wanted something like that so much he _ached_.  
  
‘But... don’t they know the way to their own village?’ he asked, suspicious.  
  
The door behind him shut.  
  
‘They do,’ Aaron said. ‘But you don’t. Not yet anyway.’  
  
For a second, Nicky’s mind came up blank, trying to think of what the hell Aaron could mean. He only got lost in the village _one time_ , and usually he found his way around pretty easily-  
Oh, wait.  
  
‘But... The village near the river isn’t my home,’ Nicky whispered, voice thick.  
  
Aaron moved in front of him.  
  
‘Like I said. Not yet.’  
  
Nicky’s heart pounded in his chest.  
And then tears were spilling over his eyelashes, dripping down his face, and he was throwing his arms around Aaron, sobbing into his shoulder.  
  
‘When did you g-get so mature?’ he cried.  
  
‘Shut up,’ Aaron muttered, awkwardly patting Nicky on the back because they’d been practicing hugs for years.  
  
✧  
  
‘Andrew,’ Nicky said, catching his attention. He was outside, staring up at the sky. ‘I’m going to the village near the river. Also, what are you doing?’  
  
‘Listening,’ Andrew answered.   
  
‘Why? Like, for trespassers?’  
  
Andrew nodded.  
Oh. Nicky had kind of been joking.  
  
‘Uh, okay, that’s nice, but don’t you want to be with Neil right now? Now you’re still, uh,’ Nicky gestured to Andrew. ‘...Like this?’  
  
Andrew’s eyes flashed for a second. It made him look very dangerous.   
And it reminded Nicky that he still wasn’t used to the glowing eyes.  
Or seeing Andrew _alive_.  
  
‘Count your lucky stars,’ Nicky added silently. ‘You can be with him.’  
  
Andrew turned to him.  
Watched him for a while.  
Then.  
  
‘I’ll take care of the rest.'  
  
And though it definitely shouldn’t,  
it felt like a weight was lifted from Nicky’s shoulders.  
  
‘I missed you,’ he blurted out. ‘I know you don’t like the whole feelings talk, but, that year you were dead? It was shit.’  
  
‘I killed people,’ Andrew said. ‘It wasn’t safe.’  
  
Nicky winced.  
  
‘But that was the wolf… And that was only the beginning, right? You’re in control now, aren’t you?’  
  
Andrew looked away.  
  
It was quiet outside.  
  
Nicky looked up at the stars like Andrew had done,  
and allowed himself for a moment to dream about seeing them with Erik, about climbing the never-ending tower and plucking a beautiful star out of the sky and giving it to Erik, because a god only deserved something from the heavens.  
  
‘You said the town hall was big,’ Andrew suddenly spoke up.  
  
‘Yeah!’ Nicky nodded furiously. ‘There’s so much _space!_ ’  
  
‘Check if they have room for more people.’  
  
‘Oh, I think so? Why-’  
  
Nicky’s heart jumped inside his chest.   
  
‘You want to move?’ he whispered, barely believing it. ‘And live together again?’   
  
Andrew didn’t immediately reply,   
which allowed Nicky to talk for maybe a minute, or more, about how great the town hall was but also the village, and the houses in general, really, it was all pretty great there-  
  
‘Go be happy, Nicky,’ Andrew interrupted him.  
  
A lump formed inside Nicky’s throat.  
  
‘I’m going to hug you now,’ he announced in a wobbly voice.  
  
Andrew sighed.  
  
✧  
  
The snow crushed and crunched pleasantly underneath their boots as they walked.   
Or at least, Nicky and Jean were walking. The rest of the wolves were. Uh. Okay _technically_ they were also walking, but they used four legs instead of two so it wasn’t really the same.   
  
But it was really great to be walking in the fresh air.  
  
Nicky took a deep breath, inhaling the freezing air.  
  
‘You seem nervous,’ Jean commented.  
  
‘What?’ Nicky said in shock. ‘What makes you say that?’  
  
‘This is the fifth time you’ve breathed in sharply.’  
  
‘I’m just enjoying… the cold.’  
  
Jean stared at him.

His dark eyes seemed unconvinced and it took everything Nicky had to return his stare.   
He scratched his cheek.  
  
‘You’re lying,’ Jean said.  
  
‘I’m not!’  
  
‘You’re scratching your cheek, a tell that means you don’t want to look away because you know you’re lying and you know that I know that you’re lying.’  
  
Nicky looked away.  
  
‘Fine,’ he huffed. ‘I’m nervous. Satisfied?’   
  
Jean looked at the horizon, a look of  _ longing _ crossing his features.   
  
‘I’ll be satisfied when I see my partner again.’   
  
Ugh, that was so disgustingly cute.   
  
✧  
  
It had to happen of course, because that’s how walking and time and movement worked, but when they could finally see the gate, Nicky was suddenly very, very sure he couldn’t do this.   
  
‘He’s not going to like me, oh gods,’ he  mumbled. ‘He doesn’t want to live with me, what was I thinking?’   
  
The bright green banner hanging over the gate greeted them cheerfully, as far as banners could, waving gently in the wind.  
  
‘He’s found someone else… He has to have, he’s  _ divine _ .’   
  
And then the door of the house at the edge of the village opened, no was  _ thrown _ open, and Erik was sprinting down the stairs,   
was crossing his village’s border   
and running towards Nicky.  
  
‘No no no,’ Nicky said, panicked, shaking his head. ‘You can’t just-’  
  
‘Can’t just what?’ Erik asked, panting a little when he stopped in front of Nicky.   
  
‘You can’t just run towards me like you’re excited to see me.’  
  
Erik smiled.  
  
‘But I  _ am _ excited to see you.’  
  
‘Why do you- ugh, look at his face, Jean. It’s so perfect.’  
  
‘I’m going to find Jeremy,’ Jean commented, moving past them.    
  
Meanwhile, Erik was still smiling at him,  
his breath clouding in front of him,   
making it seem like he was standing among the clouds.  
  
Nicky hoped they were the same clouds that had surrounded them  when they had kissed.   
  
But-  
  
‘But I rejected you twice!’ he exclaimed. ‘You should’ve found someone else by now!’  
  
Colour, a lovely, embarrassed shade of red, filled Erik’s cheeks.  
  
‘I had hoped maybe third time’s the charm?’   
  
Nicky’s heart stuttered inside his chest.  
  
‘You’re not real,’ he whispered.  
  
Erik took a step closer, close enough for the clouds made up entirely of his breath to drift and brush past Nicky’s cheeks.  
  
‘Want me to prove it to you?’ he smiled shyly.  
  
‘Yes, most definitely.’ Nicky nodded. ‘Right now would be perfect.’  
  
Erik’s smile grew bigger.  
  
‘Perfect,’ he said quietly, and leaned in.  
  
And the soft kiss felt  _ very _ perfect  
and very real,  
even though Nicky still had trouble feeling like he was standing on the ground.   
  
‘I don’t think we need to build that tower,’ Nicky laughed breathlessly. ‘I feel like I’m floating whenever I’m with you.’  
  
Erik ducked his head, blushing up to his ears.  
  
‘It’s going to be so hard to court you,’ he confessed.  
  
Nicky couldn’t understand why.  
  
He was down with basically everything at this point. 

Heck, if Erik wanted to have sex right now, here, Nicky was more than willing to take off all his clothes. They’d melt all the snow with their hot and romantic lovemaking.  
  
‘Why?’ he asked in confusion.  
  
Erik didn’t meet his eyes, but Nicky revelled in seeing the pretty blush on his heavenly face.  
  
‘Because I don’t think I can stand to see you only once a week…’ Erik met his gaze. ‘I just want to start my life with you already.’  
  
Nicky swooned.  
  
Luckily, Erik’s insanely strong and heavenly arms were there to hold him up.   
  
Nicky had a feeling that would be a theme for the rest of his life.   
  
He finally didn’t have to carry all the weight alone anymore.  
  
✧   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they lived happily ever after ♡
> 
> (AWW YES)


End file.
